“Did you do it? What did it cost?” :^)

infinity war starters || accepting

     “Like ten bucks.”

     “It was just a McDonald’s run – something I can still afford, believe it or not.”

Tap the opposite shoulder from where they're standing -mistwclkers, Wraith

@mistwclkersThere’s something about the relationship they share with the other Killer than almost seems comical. Frequently do they meander into his domain, wreaking havoc and disrupting the general quiet. Often times does the Wraith catch them and deliver due punishment in the same breath.One would think that the Legion would figure out how the Wraith’s cloaking works ( or at least what to look for, but they are so absent-minded when alone it doesn’t matter. ) Needless to say, it is much more often than not that they are startled by his sudden appearances.This time the mischievous Killer(s) were running around the junkyard and climbing on things they shouldn’t. Old, smashed cars and big machinery alike were targets for their endeavors. Their shoes catch in the remains of windows and scatter shards of glass with every push to get their body higher. There’s an air of success when they put their fists on their hips, standing atop a pile of mismatched colored vehicles. Unfortunately, there is no kick of wind to send their jacket fluttering or give them that comical breath of fresh air ( as if any air in this place wouldn’t be filled with acrid fog. )They do not notice the silent eyes which watch them, plotting their demise for stepping into another’s domain. Only when the Legion isn’t looking in his direction does the Wraith get closer, however, he stays on the ground until the Legion decides to get down from their perch.Once they are on solid ground again, they immediately wander over to an old oil barrel, alight with an eternal fire just like their own pit of flames, and they hold out their hands to the gentle warmth. Even out of the mountain air, they are naturally cold to the touch and retain little heat.A single tap on one of their shoulders has them looking in that direction, shoulders slumping as confusion etches to their hidden face.The shimmer of the cloak reveals the Wraith on the opposite side of them, bell raised right next to their ear as he hits it, the wailing sound disorienting and startling Legion–landing them on the ground after a stunned stumble has their feet tripping over each other.The ringing in their ears is loud, but the second gong of the bell near their face has them putting their hands to their head to try and silence it. The noise permeates no matter the barrier and the Wraith hits it again.Legion scrambles to their feet and stutters in their steps as they gather their balance–equilibrium shaken with the incessant noise in their ears. The Wraith follows them, undeterred, sounding the bell as close as possible to them and successfully chasing them out of the junkyard.

😊😫😀 (batman voice) /i'm never afraid/ -mistwclkers

send the symbols to my askbox that represent to you how intimidating I am to you.😊 - I think you are a really friendly person.😫 - I admire you from the sidelines because you seem cool and I’m just a dork.😀 - I’m not afraid of reaching out to you.

please, I too am also a dorkbut thank you so much

RPG STATS

Drathenia LV.44

Assassin HP ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜ MP ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜ ATK ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜ DEF ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜ LCK ⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ SPD ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜ STA ⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜

OFFENDED

tagged by: @mvndus and @infcrnalking thnks bbies

tagging: @vilefeather @causeitsmyboat @kneelbeforeyourdeath @vanhelsiing @crueltymcde @reaperxfsin @crvptiid @sxnguisuga @urobouros @empyream @blavikenbutcher @notasbadwolf  and anyone else that fancies a go!

@reaperxfsin - [Some kid]

     “Shouldn’t you be in school right about now?”

reaperxfsin replied to your post “♤ - slam a door shut before my muse can leave the room, in her...”

Lynn: mom Alessa: we're just gonna play here together forever :)

NERVOUS LAUGHTER 

► just let me tunnel you :/ -mistwclkers, Wraith

-- That..was not something he’d wanted to hear.

“Son of a--..”

Swallowing thickly as his eyes rest on the figure of the Wraith before him, Jeff already clutching his side as the pain from where the hook had been jammed through his shoulder radiated through his body. He was strong but he wasn’t built for running...

but..

Taking a deep breath he turns, grits his teeth, and runs.

Anubis is giving the bird boy a dancing hug ❤

a hug!○ @bloodcoded

Humans were interesting.     Omnics such as themselves were created with a single purpose in mind, and they would live out their days fulfilling their duties. Humans, on the other hand, could do as they pleased. They could choose their own courses in life and see where they were led. These particular humans had been led to formal clothing, men linking their arms with women as they walked into the building with smiles and good cheer.     Alpha and Zeta were not among them. They remained upon the rooftop, where the humans seemed so small and insignificant. At least, that’s how Alpha had referred to them.     ‘I do not understand,’ said Zeta, ‘the significance of the night.’     But as Zeta had been peering over the edge, Alpha had walked away, and was only made aware of this when he spoke his assistant’s name. Zeta looked away from the edge he was peering over, and Alpha motioned for him to approach.     He stood by a skylight, gazing down upon the humans. Some of them, Zeta noticed as he kneeled down and looked over, had taken to standing and eating, others talking in smaller groups. His focus came to rest on those in the center of the floor, who stepped in time with one another and twirled in unison. Music could be heard from the hall below, but only ever so faintly.     The only omnics present were those serving food and drinks to the humans. Fulfilling only their duty, and nothing more.     ‘It is not significant,’ Alpha confirmed. ‘It’s nothing more than an excuse for the humans to gather in one place and socialise. The event itself is meaningless.’     Even so, Zeta couldn’t take his eyes away. In all his years he had never seen such a display, something so perfectly beautiful.     ‘It looks enjoyable.’     Alpha emulated a noise not unlike a sigh. ‘Zeta.’     The assistant looked up, taking note of the hand being offered to him. And so he took it and got to his feet, finding himself unable to let go as Alpha gripped the hand. ‘Do you want to dance?’     For a small while, Zeta found himself unable to respond. He looked into the optics of the other, but even to somebody who knew him so well, it was a little difficult to know if he truly wanted this. Luckily, he also knew Alpha to be the kind for sincerity, as opposed to playing tricks.     ‘Zeta?’     Finally, his question was answered. ‘Yes.’     So Alpha pulled his assistant closer, their hands together as they danced. An attempt to imitate the steps of the human dancers below was in vain, for neither had ever danced nor been programmed to carry out such a hobby.     Their steps were slow as they attempted to coordinate their actions, Zeta for the most part following along to Alpha’s lead.     ‘Do you enjoy this?’ Alpha asked as the music came to a close.     The music ended as Zeta finished considering his answer. ‘I do.’     ‘Good.’ But instead of letting go, Alpha pulled Zeta in closer, his arms coming around his assistant.     Zeta’s arms remained in the air until he realised that the gesture was one of affection. His arms, too, came around the taller omnic.     And ever so gently came the clank of metal upon metal, Alpha’s forehead coming down upon Zeta’s. Again, an affection seldom shown.     ‘I want you to enjoy yourself while you can.’

“I got us matching fuzzy socks.”

cold weather starters || accepting

     “Aw, c’mon, you didn’t have to.” Said even as he tries and fails to conceal a smile. It’s the thoughtful gifts that count, and Miles would take a present with heart over the flashiest holiday bullshit any day of the week. Because it means something to him, that she cares enough and likes him enough for the gesture. And god knows that he keeps fucking up the guardianship role he’s been handed, but he’s trying -- and the fact that she recognizes that means the world to him.

     He passes her a gift bag -- one designed for birthdays rather than for any winter holiday, because wrapping paper was hard even before the finger situation and yeah, maybe he forgot about it altogether until the last minute. But he’d like to think that it’s what’s on the inside that really counts. The contents of the bag are simple, but were selected with a measure of thoughtfulness that Miles sometimes has difficulty verbalizing. There’s a small notebook of sketchpaper and a set of nice colored pencils, as well as a decorative shadowbox frame meant for the insects she likes to display. 

     “I don’t know if you really do Christmas or even want to do Christmas, but it’s... I wanted to do something. For the holidays. For you, because-- because you deserve it. Well, no, fuck, you deserve a hell of a lot more than this, but...” He sighs and laughs at himself and runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Merry Christmas, kid.”

🔴 -mistwclkers, any!

20. // Not accepting!

@mistwclkers

The one time Legion runs into the junkyard, they have to come across the Wraith. They’ve never really met them before--though through the Entity they have a vague idea that he exists as another Killer.

Snooping around was certainly their specialty, climbing over compacted metal and being generally nosy. It was rare they ever had a trial here, so they might as well get a good look around.

They do not notice the shimmer of something moving closer to them. In fact, they are so preoccupied with looking at an old bus they physically jump when they hear the bell.

Turning towards the other Killer, Legion raises their small knife (in comparison to the thing Wraith carried--they unanimously agree it looks pretty sick though.)

Perhaps it is because they look so similar to survivors that Wraith attacks them. It could be because he didn’t want them there at all. Even still, he could just hate them as soon as he saw them. Hopefully, that wasn’t the case.

There is little to do in terms of struggling when getting whacked with a makeshift club with blades--no matter how cool the skull on top made it look. They tried covering their face with their arms but it proved fruitless. Blood drips down their forearms and Legion tries to back away.

Wraith swings at them again and the force of being hit upside the head actually knocks them down. Rolling over onto their back, taking a deep breath, Legion groans when they see him raise his weapon again.

“Stop it! Stop!” Useless. Gashes in their stomach, their chest? Check. Legs? Sliced ‘n’ diced. Arms? A mess.

It isn’t until he hits them directly on the face that their mask breaks and Wraith seems to notice the red glint in their eyes. Hard to see from a tiny peephole for eyesight.

The silent Killer pauses and stands aside with his weapon lowered. Oh, they weren’t a survivor.

It doesn’t really matter since Legion is left to bleed out on their own anyway.

⭐️⭐️ -mistwclkers, two for Jake and maybe Wraith??

a hc for each ⭐️ ! // still accepting !

Jake

- They can easily sit together in comfortable silence, doing their own thing. Quentin trusts Jake enough that he’ll help make sure he doesn’t fall asleep, or, if he does, to wake him up if he ever does. Also both are good listeners, and will listen to each other’s small urges of talk or complaints, whatever it is. Really, just overall, they do well in each other’s simple presence imo.

- Jake can show Quen the crows, and how to get them to not fly away from him. Quentin’s always going to find them a bit weird/unnatural, but he’s willing to learn how to handle them, because, well, why not? Jake’s love of them is kinda cute.

Wraith

- Quentin already struggles to keep a focused eye on his surroundings, a killer that’s invisible half of the time? He runs into Wraith, literally, a lot. Wraith probably finds it funnier than he should, if he’s ever able to. Quentin just gets annoyed with himself. But it has produced some darkly funny scenarios, such as accidentally getting body-blocked in a dead end, and taking a good few seconds to realize that it’s because the Wraith is right in front of him.

- Quentin tends to wander the woods a lot from boredom and I imagine Wraith is one of the killers he’s most likely to run into. What happens whenever they do run into each other outside of trials? Well, that might vary, sometimes it’s left on neutral grounds, sometimes, not so much.

►wear the christmas sweater sally knitted for you for an entire day :) -mistwclkers, Nurse

-- The notion of celebrating a human festivity is lost on the Entity completely. While they made the effort to decorate the realm for the entertainment of the survivors, it was purely to keep their hopes up so that when they were killed each time it would still be sweet to witness.

However, they slowly take the sweater that Sally had so lovingly made, and slowly slip it on. Adjusting the hem slightly and rolling up the sleeves, the Entity looks towards her.

“...Well?”

♤ - slam a door shut before my muse can leave the room, in her absolutely darling, disturbing psychic manner. Probably smiling while doing so.

MANHANDLING SYMBOL STARTERS / accepting! 

    “We have to get out of here,” Lynn insisted, panic forming as a lump in the back of her throat, threatening to choke her. She was not worried for her own safety, rather for the young girl’s she promised she’d protect. Shadows grew on the walls of the room and Lynn quietly convinced herself it was a trick of the eye or her paranoia sparking unwanted hallucinations. It couldn’t be real - and neither was the sharp creak around her, almost like the sound of barbed wire twisted around itself, bending and threatening to snap. 

    Lynn moved towards the door, grabbing Alessa’s hand as she did, ignoring how hot she was to the touch. The moment she approached the door it slammed shut in her face, shoved closed by an invisible force like a gust of wind or something unseen and heavy in the hallway. Only when she turned to look down at the girl, an explanation trying to form in her head, did she see the toothy grin on Alessa’s face. It stretched across her childish features, too wide and unnatural, and dread enveloped Lynn, bore deep into her bones, sending shards of ice through her veins. 

           “Alessa...” she said, barely able to get the name out. “What are you doing...?” 

@reaperxfsin

Drops in literally all of my blogs and STARES

send me a url  | @reaperxfsinhaha funny joke

Do I Follow Them?:      no. yes i do! i follow allllll of your blogs now. it took me a while to follow the multimuse but that’s bc im picky about multimuses but!! i love ur muses on there!!

Why Did I Follow Them?:      well when i first followed your nick i was like HOLY FUCK, THERE’S PEOPLE IN THE FALLOUT FANDOM?? and now i follow your other blogs for that gucci horror content:tm: and your fantastic writing bc dam

Do We Role Play?:      yes! i love rping w/ u! u’ve made rping novella such an enjoyable experience and i dont feel like it’s a waste of time bc you give me equal effort back and i appreciate that.

Do I Want To Role Play With Them:      literally always

An AU Idea For Our Muses:      dbd au with nick and connor as survivors. think about it.

A Song For Our Muses:       for what it’s worth - buffalo springfield

Do I Ship Our Muses?:      so far just familial with nick and connor! havent had a chance to rp with your other muses!

What I Think About The Mun:      crow you’re so sweet and u’ve helped me out so much like, you probably? have no idea but you have and i hope i can repay you one day fghdjkgf. ilu

Overall Opinion: DANK x30

Blog Rate: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 x 4

🔴 -mistwclkers, any killer! (Nurse/Wraith/Brahms)

7. // Still accepting!@mistwclkersSkirt flutters over the lap of a much larger Killer. Legion is relatively short compared to most, but with their body in Brahm’s lap, the difference is quite noticeable. Dainty hands draw over the loose cardigan the man wore, rubbing it between their fingers and finding it to be reminiscent of comfort. Both of them wore masks and it certainly makes for a difficult time getting close to each other. Still, Legion is happy to take the initiative even when the other is certain of his wants as well.Soft voices mingle between sighs, the smaller Killer settled tightly up against The Boy with their straddled position. They were cooler to the touch than he was and they relished what little warmth they could glean from him.There were hands resting on their hips and served as a guide for when Legion got too touchy and Brahms wanted them to either back down or go a different route. Legion’s mask gets discarded somewhere along the way so that they could press supple lips stained pinkish-red to the man’s exposed collar. No marks are left.They want to do more, they want to kiss him and have some reciprocation. There were no more rules to abide here in this Realm. Not the ones he was so used to anymore. Legion risks the anger, the rejection, and reaches to pry the mask from Brahm’s features.His marred flesh does not bother them–there were many things wrong in this place and he was the least displeasing the look at if they were to speak of it. A hint of breath crosses his lips before Brahms is the one to initiate the first kiss. A genuine exchange of something missing in them, something that could not be brought with them from the normal world. An attempt to fill each other’s void.Things get heated pretty quickly; Legion’s hands exploring the other Killer’s torso in its entirety while larger hands ride up the stockings of their legs beneath their skirt. Such needs bubbling to the surface left a lot to be desired.They bring their mouth over his, shifting their position to hold their own weight over Brahm’s lap instead of fully sitting on him. Kissing was a little awkward, unpolished. Both of them sloppy in execution but still enjoying it none-the-less. There’s an exchange of breaths between each kiss, needy despite the shared inexperience.What is must be like to have lived without touching another or having someone to share in touching. Each of their Own had their own experiences in their past lives, however, it meant very little in this Realm where they do not remember much.Arms wrap around Brahm’s neck, hand still hanging onto that porcelain doll mask he so loved to wear. Innocent, inconspicuous. Their own was more crafty and crude. A fine difference of their natures.They bite his lip hard enough to draw blood, earning some rugged nails digging into the soft muscle of their thighs and they squirm. They lean heavily against his chest with their own. Lips meld with his and smear the darkness across both of their mouths, staining. Their kisses are greedy–they take as much as they can get from him and they want it all.A push to their abdomen and they pull back completely, holding his mask close to their chest. Silence persists despite their heavy breathing. They bring the mask up to their bloodied lips and they press a kiss to the sleek surface, dotting it with a crude lip stain under one of the eye holes.They were not meant for each other. They can tell in the way his eyes grow dull when they kiss him–he thinks of the woman who was brought here with him to this Realm. Even if Greta was his main obsession, Legion is fine with filling a pocket of his time.

´͈ ᵕ `͈ -mistwclkers, Jake

hold my muse’s hand ! // still accepting !

@mistwclkers

   Quentin staggered, momentarily, not expecting the hesitant but noticeable tug on his hand. Through the exit gate, down the path of fog, to the orange light, they were halfway there. Quentin often dragged himself by the edge, going from tree to tree, feeling the rough bark, using it as support. He didn’t notice Jake come near.

He pauses, shoulder pushed against the tree, blood or sweat or just his blurry imagination dripping over eyelashes. He looks at Jake, dazed and confused. Too tired to twist his face into anything concrete. A crease of the brow, a tilt of the mouth, it was all he could muster.

Jake was formless and dark under the choppy shadows–Quentin couldn’t put an expression to him. But, in between shifting darkness and dried blood, with his thick curls in his eyes, Jake held his hand. Just a worn glove, firmly hesitant, but warm.

Quentin slips his fingers in between Jake’s. There’s, then, a sudden snake of anxiety that he could be misinterpreting this. That Jake was, really, just trying to prod him along. (Questionable method.)

He doesn’t loosen his grip. He’s already accepted whatever this was. Through this narrow, stained path, he needed it. Quentin slid forward, jaw flashing pallidly, and tugs Jake along, keeping the grip light. Fingers to fingers. Just in case Jake ever has regrets.

   “It’s not far, we can make it.”