Paws stretch up onto the woman's leg, claws flexing to catch onto the fabric of her clothes. "Was it you I heard calling for a familiar?" His yellow eyes stared up at her, "I accept, but I ain't walkin! I might break a nail." He scrambled up, ungracefully clawing his way onto her shoulder before settling down, "Better, this is what I deserve. I'd prefer a bag though, can you get a bag?"

       SHE DIDN'T RECALL ASKING FOR SUCH A THING; but it would appear she hadn't a choice in the matter no more, suppose once chosen you couldn't deny the gift of a companion wherever the puss has come from; or perhaps she had called for him? certainly not by her own words but maybe the loneliness that weighed her heart down.  the presence that made her smile far from warm.      had this been her sunday best, he would of been shooed but she allows him to step onto his hind legs and paw at her as though begging for a treat, a handsome little puss he was with glossy fur and golden eyes that made the crescent moon green with envy, she can only imagine how silky that fur of his was... and she finds that out rather quickly as he suddenly hops up; not quite as graceful as he probably thought he was being and she winces slightly from his claws and thanks herself for choosing leather for her hair to mimic; it at least shielded her from a complete clawing from him before he finally settles around her shoulder like a skinned minc. indeed, his fur was quite magnificent.            a witch with no memories was a lonesome existance, a truth that she would never admit aloud but had he sensed it?   had he perhaps... heard the painful drip drop of her bleeding heart? the softed of smiles curls her lips, like the touch of candlelight, BAYONETTA reaches up and gives that chin of his a scratch.   she had quite the softness for cats.        ❝ –    …  well, it's good to know you got taste at least. ❞

RANDOM ENCOUNTER // ALWAYS ACCEPTING 

@mewsry​​ asked; 

Sitting up in a tree the feline watched the swinging goat heads reacting to the wind. If he was more desperate, perhaps he would take a bite — but he preferred some REAL food; whenever that became available. Like beer, man what he wouldn’t give for a beer. Yellow eyes closed as he tucked his paws in, pointed ears still listening for any threats near him specifically. When footsteps approached his eyes snapped open and he lazily look down to see what appeared to be a confused man. “Lost?”, his voice called as a feline smirk curled on his muzzle, “I’d offer to help but I’m not from this rathole town. You got any food?”

    Ethan had walked through this part of the village MANY times already, gathering what supplies he could, then going back again to get anything MISSED of left behind. It was no different now, as the man made his way down the NARROW path, snow crunching lightly under his boots as the CHILL of the night still kept it slightly frozen. 

At the sound of the VOICE, there was little hesitation as a hand raised to the pistol at his side. Hovering over the weapon as the mans body ready for any form of ATTACK. It had been a long night, and his list of ‘ friends ’ only seemed to be getting larger and larger. Curious eyes turned up to the branches, making the father squint to make out the FELINE that rested there, “ ... What? “ It wasn’t the strangest thing, considering it all. Yet this was still ... ODD. 

Ethan stared at the creature for a moment, mouth slightly hung OPEN as his brain tried to push all the pieces he had together FIGHTING to make a picture that made sense. Vampires, werewolves, and now ... talking cats? Let alone, talking to HIM, “ I-- uh...No-- i-I don’t...  “ he wet his lips, “ Are you-- Talking? “  

@mewsry​ || ❤’d

          Heaving a heavy sigh, clawed fingers pushed aside a jar containing a pulsating creature in frustration. Another failed Cadou test sent off to the stronghold, the third one that week. It was growing increasingly more difficult for Miranda to not lose her temper about it — all of the people of this damned village were useless, nowhere near the perfection she so desired. She will not be deterred from her goal, however. It’s been far too long . . .

There was a presence.

She turned smoothly — calmly, to face whatever or whoever had the gall to try and sneak up on her in her own laboratory.

Needless to say, coming face to face with what appeared to be a cat - but didn’t ‘feel’ like one per se - was the last thing expected.

❝ Is this some sort of joke? ❞ 

@mewsry​​     *  /         “  This place was confusing, it was far too easy to get turned around in this maze of a mansion. Had he been down this hallway? He couldn’t remember anymore, all this furniture looked the same. Did they buy 500 of the same decorative vases? Maybe so! Whoever owned this place could surely hide things in them, so with a confident leap the feline ended up inside the vase. — nothing.Now how does one get out of the vase? This was a new problem, he pressed his paws against the side and pushed to no avail. Trying to jump back out was failing as well due to the smaller opening from the inside. There was really only one option left. Being LOUD — meowing, mewing and carrying on until he attracted someone’s attention.  “

          THEY  ARE  BORED  AGAIN  ,  resorting  to  roaming  emptied  halls  to  find  any  sort  of  TROUBLE  .  A  maid  to  toy  with  ,  perhaps  ,  or  another  one  of  those  failures  roaming  too  close  to  mother's  chambers  again  .  Bela's  being  annoyingly  distant  ,  and  Daniela  is  locked  away  reading  ...  whatever  dreadful  romance  novels  she  can  find  in  the  library  .    Cassandra's  almost  entirely  spaced  out  from  the  real  world  ,  daydreams  serving  as  only  form  of  enjoyment  .  Almost  entirely  spaced  out  ,  until  ...

          MEOWING  ?  HOW  PECULIAR  ---------  they'd  be  the  only  one  to  let  an  animal  into  the  house  ,  and  they  certainly  don't  remember  doing  such  a  thing  !  Eyes  flick  'round  open  hallway  ,  brows  furrowing  when  the  source  is  not  immediately  identified  .  The  little  rattle  of  vase  struggling  to  be  tipped  over  soon  catches  eye  ,  and  Cassandra  rushes  to  peek  in  &  smile  at  the  cat  .  "  Aww  ,  did  you  get  stuck  ?  "  Plucking  him  from  vase  ,  they  give  his  head  a  gentle  pat  .  "  Poor  little  kitty  !  Are  you  looking  for  something  to  eat  ?  "

☙   ——   unprompted   /   @mewsry​​​  .

DO NOT IGNORE MY PLEES TO MURDER YOUR MOTHER AND STEAL HER CHILD

YOU CAN STOP WITH THAT JOKE NOW ITS NOT FUNNY

☙   ——   unprompted   /   @mewsry​​​  .

The cold wind blowing against this decrepit place was enough to send a shiver down any living creatures spine. Luckily for him, he wasn’t living but that didn’t mean he wanted to sit outside in the fucking snow all night. So here he sat, looking up at a portrait of three young women. A large bored yawn escaped the feline as he opened his mouth wide allowing all of his teeth to be on full display. What he hadn’t expected was a fly to find it appropriate to dive into said open mouth; oh well. CHOMP. With that, the repulsive little insect wriggled it’s way into his empty chest cavity to be caged for perhaps all eternity. Yellow eyes continued to stare at the portrait, his inhuman shadow mangled into a horrific beast that stretched down the seemingly never ending hallway. The voice of a young woman reached his ears, which caused them to flick, it almost sounded as if she were getting closer. Closer. Closer still. His head shifted to greet her as she stood in his shadow that clearly did not match his tiny feline form. There she stood and here he sat in complete silence; not a breath; not a movement. What are you going to do? bitch.

         oh,  how boring it was in this castle!  for as long as she could remember she had been confined in these stone walls,  grand  &  full of secrets but so,  so dull all the same.  daniela,  one might ask,  why are you complaining when there is so much to do?  a room for art,  a fully stocked library,  enough parchment   &   ink to write hundreds of books.  she would be inclined to agree if she had not exhausted every activity in this house since she was first awakened.  in her time she wrote enough fiction to fill a lengthy shelf in her chambers.  art was a failed adventure every time,  better suited for her older sister rather than herself.  every book in the library was read cover to cover,  forwards  &  backwards.  so yes,  she was bored.

          a thick,  leather - bound book was sent flying towards the nearest window,  the only thing saving the glass from shattering being the thick curtains  &  the ornate metal latticing.  daniela threw her head back and let out a shriek  -  what was she to do when there was nothing to do?  she rose to her feet with a huff,  kicking the chair back hard enough to hit the floor with a thud.  flying insects began to gather around her humanoid form,  seeming to completely envelope her until she was nothing more than a dark mass.  

        through the crack of the door  &   into the maze of a castle she went.  the open flames of the wall mounted candles that lit the halls threatened to go out entirely from the sheer speed in which she passed them.  if her mother could see her now   —   perhaps even if bela saw   —   daniela was sure that she would get scolded for speeding about the home for no reason.  still, she needed something to stimulate herself somehow!  let them catch her!  she huffed at the idea of it all.  

        daniela turned a corner sharply,  rushing past more doors than she could care to count—  but there was one left wide open that caught her attention.  the flies gathered along the door frame  &  painted it black.  a singular one separated from the group,  serving as her eyes to examine the room.  she saw that nothing was out of place save for the small creature that sat itself a few feet from the painting of she  &  her sisters.   she inched closer to see the creature clearer,  fluttering just by its face to stare into giant yellow eyes.  it was rather cute,  one of those cats she had seen in books but never before in the castle.  strays did not think that the winter snow was worth the trip to the castle——

        she snapped back into reality at the sound of a jaw snapping shut.  curiosity did not kill the cat this time.  rather,  it had killed the fly.  daniela was grateful that it had only eaten a tiny part of herself.  but the nerve of it!  hundreds of insects began to float into the room through the door,  circling around the feline  &  humming with a vengeance.

        “   where are your manners,  you atrocious little creature!?  first you break into my home   &   then you have the audacity to bite me!?   “   her voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.  its ear twitched. 

        all at once,  she came together into the form of a woman scorned.  she would have stomped forward had she bothered to form legs   /   instead daniela floated forward to stare the creature down.  it had turned its head just moments prior,  staring at her in silence.   she noted how large his shadow was,  how it seemed to consume her,  before lowering herself to meet his unwavering gaze.  the two kept this up for far too long to be comfortable for anybody involved.

        she reached forward with one hand,  grasping the cat by its body in a way that made him look like a cup rather than an animal.  he was pulled to eye level with one swift movement.  “   speak when you are spoken to!   or are you one of those pitiful creatures who can not even talk?  how sad!  you want me to keep you as a pet,  hm?  ha!  you’re not the first   &   you won’t be the last!   “

aesthetics for the entities, part ii.   bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. rest of the fears here.  this is based on a horror podcast;  potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead!

viii.  the hunt.   sharp canines.  sore calves after a run.  the scent of blood.  an adventure for the journey’s sake.  the adrenaline right before the kill.   a whistle’s echo.  the woods.  the doe eyes of a prey animal.  your own breath in the air.  sharpened claws.  being tracked.  fear of someone knowing your every movement.  hunting down monsters.  hide and seek.  running away only to end up where you started.  staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run.  a set of footsteps behind you.  blood dripping from bare hands.  barks and growls.  focused eyes.  a victim going limp under your hands.  a mouth full of fresh blood.  catching the scent of something monstorous.  perfecting your craft.  peering into the dark and running after it.

ix.  the lonely.   an apartment too small for a double bed.  completely vacant streets.  waking up to see everyone gone.  fog.  point nemo.  a house too big to hear your family members in.  alone in a faceless crowd.  a mask with nothing behind it.  separated cubicles.  a deafening silence where joy should be.  a blinding spotlight.  the least missed in your friend group.  streets without lights in the windows.  isolation.  not truly knowing your friends.  your friends not truly knowing you.  need for silence.  fear of crowds.  staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you.  a ship alone at sea.  depression.  knowing your friends are better off without you.  talking to someone only to realise they’re gone.  a family too large to notice you there.  safety in being alone.

x.  the slaughter.    a game of tag.   senseless violence.  a true crime hobby.  improvised weapons.  blinding rage.  intent to kill.  a horrific day in a quiet community.  a medal of bravery.  holding on to what validates your anger.  history books that spare no details.  an injury you want revenge for.  war.  counting kills.  songs of soldiers.  a knifeblock on the counter.  a pool of blood.  shellshock.  unspeakable horrors.  anger pushing you forward.  unimaginable pain.  not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming.  a fully human monster.  an authority sending its lessers to their deaths.  kill or be killed.  unedited wartime memoirs.  a weapons collection.  not knowing the names of who you kill.  too many to remember.  loss of hope.  there’s no heroes in war.

xi.  the spiral.   sleep deprivation.  corridors you can get lost in.  maze puzzles that loop back on themselves.  losing possessions.  losing people.  losing your sanity.  corkscew curls.  rows of funhouse mirrors.  optical illusions.  a separate reality.  walking through the wrong door.  delusions.  not knowing what your hands are doing.  blank spaces in documents.  hallucinations.  wrong proportions.  a nameless thing.  a place that has never existed.  doubting your own mind.  blind faith.  losing track of names, labels, categories.  distorted sound.  an imperfection in a glass that twists the view.  loss of time.  a garish colour.  doors that open to nowhere.  lies.  an unnatural laugh.  jokes and tricks.  illusions.  a doorway.  a sculptor with a wild imagination.  limbs in impossible angles.  doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible.  fractals you can get lost in.

xii.  the stranger.   wax figures.  a close approximation of a human face.  a borrowed appearance.  a strange smell.  glass eyes.  furs and pelts.  a dance.  a song of a choir.  the uncanny valley.  stitching yourself together.  the colours of a circus.  a puppet with no strings.  mannequins.  glitter and sequin.  a stranger you’ve always known.  someone strange in the place of someone you knew.  stolen identities.  stolen skins.  a machine imitating humanity.  the anonymity of a service worker.  hiding in plain sight.  uncomfortable to look at.  a faked accent.  concealing.  forgetting who you are.  forgetting who others are.  a replacement no one notices.  images that look posed.  the only one seeing the false face of someone.

xiii.  the vast.   open spaces.  carnival rides going up and down.  fear of heights.  endless infinity around you.  your insignificance in an universe.  stomach turning at a drop.  fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip.  the sway of a cable car.  an adventure holiday.  losing track of where the surface is.  miles and miles of nothing around you.  staring at the sky and feeling like you may fall into it.  loss of control.  a fall that doesn’t end in death.  glass floor to the view below.  terminal velocity.  the sound of wind in your ears.  a reach over the railing.  a jump from the top of the building.  falling into nothing.  feeling your feet let go of the ground.  a leap of faith.  motion sickness.

xiv.  the web.   undecipherable code.  a puppeteer holding the strings.  power over the weak-willed.  strings of fate.  manipulation.  an arranged accident.  a hundred minions doing your bidding.  cobwebs.  spiders.  a laid trap.  never voicing discomfort.  outwitting a cheater.  doing things without realizing it.  red string across a corkboard.  finding something lost where you were sure you checked.  power over the unreliability of chance.  watching others dance for you.  an entangled death.  a thousand tiny legs and fangs.  shady forum threads.  something important gone missing.  suspiciously disregarded case.  a missing witness.  connections.  the world wide web.  power of victimhood.  gullibility.  no control over your own decisions.  an invisible leash.  mass psychology.  a horror film in the making.  scapegoat.  never remembering to ask for a name.

+  the extinction.   the end of an era.  apocalypse movies.  the alarms of warning systems.  a desolate landscape.  end of the world cults.  nihilism.  the last written history.  a changed world.  no survivors.  old prophecies.  a thousand predicted ends.  a new chapter.  an end with no escape.  catastrophes.  a calendar counting down.  breaking point.  overindulgence.

TAGGED BY:   myself on my other blog HGKJDF

TAGGING:  @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry @mewsry​​

@mewsry​   *   starter   .

          "  COME  HERE  ,  LITTLE  ONE  ...  "  Voice  a  HUM  ,  hands  tapping  knees  to  get  cat's  attention                      sweet  as  they  may  sound  in  their  mind  ,  it  is  no  surprise  the  black  cat  hesitates  :  fresh  blood  still  stains  chin  ,  gloves  soiled  by  meal  .  Noting  such  ,  Cassandra  tugs  them  off  &  tosses  them  aside  ,  hoping  that  will  suffice  .  "  Don't  worry  !  I  just  want  to  pet  you  ...  I  won't  throw  you  out  in  the  cold  .  "

We haven’t gotten the chance to write much just yet, but I’m so excited to explore more of their relationship soon. I absolutely love your portrayal and think you’re doing so good! You can tell how passionate you are about your character just from the way you talk about them. I know how difficult it can be to write witty dialogue but you do it so well! 10/10 truly

🥺🥺🥺💜🖤❤️ thank you GUYS! you're too sweet to me! thank you guys for following and indulging me in such a forgotten nintendo character <3 i love you guys! @mewsry & @phntmhrts blows kisses

beep beep how’s my portrayal ?

☙   ——   prompted   /   @mewsry​

❉ I hope you take this as a threat

❉  I’ve followed you for a long time