#;we gotta go tonight {deana}

[dividedskies]

@othertypcs asked: [REAPPEARANCE] - benrey, and I WONT FORGET TO SPECIFY THIS TIME, for deded

misc. scenarios | accepting

[REAPPEARANCE] - Someone from my muse’s past has resurfaced - for better or worse - and they come to your muse for advice, shelter, or perhaps to celebrate.

{ ✩ }

“Ah - hold on... there!”

Deana adjusts Benrey’s tie just a little, loosening it up so it wasn’t choking up on their throat as much. It felt like a miracle that they got Benrey into formal attire for this event. She herself is in the nicest things she owned: black skirt, heels, white blouse, black cardigan. Anita, too, is dressed up, though no amount of makeup could hide just how tired she looked being here.

It was an annual event for Mateo Morrison to hold a party at his estate (estate, Deana thought with distaste, how pretentious), and for once, the other side of the family was invited. Deana jumped at the chance; not because she wanted to see her father, but because she wanted to see her sister. But she was going to need some support--and she wanted to introduce two of the most important people in her life to one another. So she asked Benrey if they would be her plus one, and thank God, they said yes.

Before they get out of the car, Deana runs through things one more time:

“Remember, Benrey, this is a formal event. Stay with me, yes? You do not have to talk if you do not want to. I will do whatever talking is necessary. Especially around Papá. Once we find Katarina, we should be able to relax more.”

Something clicks in her mind, and her eyes go wide.

“One more thing. This is very important. Katarina... is not yet out to Papá as a girl. So you will hear me refer to her with the wrong name, and the wrong pronouns.” As much as it pained her to do so, it was important to keep Katarina safe.

With a breath, Deana opens the car door. “Let us get this over with.”

The Morrison estate was luxurious, well-kept, tidy. Yet it felt... cold. Impersonal. Unlike the little apartment, there no pictures of a smiling family, just a rather miserable-looking family portrait of two. No strange oddities or knickknacks, but instead modern art pieces and little statuettes of nothing important.

“Deana?”

The one who called her name is a shorter man, with dark skin and hair very similar in tone to Deana’s own. The years had not been kind to his skin, yet he did his best to look together nonetheless. He shares Deana’s eyes.

Deana freezes in place, before her posture changes. Straight back, neatly folded hands. And as Benrey could probably tell, a polite, yet empty smile.

“... Hello, Papá. It is wonderful to see you again.”

Mateo Morrison smiles, though it’s hard to tell if there’s anything behind it. “Wonderful to see you, too, Deana.” He goes in for a hug, one that Deana returns out of courtesy. He turns to Benrey and raises a brow.

“Ah... who is your guest?”

“Yes - Papá, this is my close friend, Benrey. Benrey, this... is my father.”

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

@othertypcs​ asked: ❛   come  and  find  me  …  polo !  ❜ benrey shouts in the darkness, a cackle echoing their taunt. (for deana !)

dangerous starters | accepting

{ ✩ }  

“Wha--Benrey!”

What was supposed to be a calm walk home late at night suddenly turns into a game when Benrey dashes ahead, calling (taunting!) for Deana to chase after them. Deana huffs in faux anger, though she is unable to stop the grin growing on her face.

“Get back here!” She giggles in delight before sprinting full force after Benrey, unafraid of the dark or what it may be hiding, with only the stars and the slightest sliver of the moon lighting the way.

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

@othertypcs​ asked: 👀 + dede! ... havent you ever thought about how dangerous your powers are? how they could kill someone? you ever think about how separated your  family is? you ever think about how there's so much abnormality in your life? 

nothing but the truth | accepting

{ ✩ }

“... But of course I have.”

She’s... smiling?

“I always try to see my family’s powers as gifts, as blessings. We were given them for a reason, no? Perhaps that reason is to help those who cannot be helped. Help those who go unseen, unheard. But of course, these powers, if not used correctly... they can be very dangerous.

“And as for my family... I know that it is broken. I love Mamá and Abuela, and I love Katarina, but we are not a whole family. We do the best that we can, but sometimes it is not enough, is it? Sometimes Mamá refuses to eat for a night so that Abuela and I can. We have to fix things ourselves at home all of the time, because we cannot afford a professional fix. I have been wearing clothes that I have long since outgrown just so Mamá doesn’t have to buy any more. I only learned about two years ago that all of that? Was not normal.“

Her lips quiver.

“I discovered very quickly that my powers were not normal. That not having any friends but the spirits around the town was not normal. That exploring and investigating places, something that I loved, was not normal. I was not normal! I am not normal!”

She’s laughing.

Tears are rolling down her cheeks.

“My entire life is just - just one big abnormality! And--”

A quaking breath.

“--no one likes the abnormal.”

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

@sodaprop​ asked: haha did you think i was kidding. tommy is giving dede a BIG ol' bear hug if she's cool with that.

{ ✩ }  

”Oh--!”

She is now Being Hugged! She giggles and gives Tommy a tight hug as well!

“Hehehe--! Why thank you, sir! What is this for?”

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

When do you realize you love someone?

when silence is comfort

When you get closer slowly over time, unspoken with no words required to express it. When you call them, just to be talking in intervals and realize that it's not even really an ongoing conversation, just hearing their ambient sounds on the other line is enough. When you invite them over, just to sit down and watch a movie together. You know the heavy impact words can have, and how abrasive they can be. But you also understand that silence can be deafening, and that the phrase "things are better left unspoken" has negative connotations but sometimes, they are better left unsaid, even if it's an "I love you." Because you know they know it and are saying it back, too.

i stole it from @sodaprop​ so steal it from me

[dividedskies]

MUN VS MUSE: CARTOONY MAKER

tagged by: @nopassport

tagging: no

since im a multi i chose a couple muses, so there’s a Young bubby, a joshua, and a dede

[dividedskies]

{ ✩ } 

”Heheheheheeeee~! Is it not wonderful, to see everyone so happy? All so full of lov̴e?̷ Everyone deserves to feel this way~!”

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

@othertypcs​ asked: 🧸for bentley from dede or bubby u pick

gestures of affection | accepting

{ ✩ }

Benrey was tired.

Well, they always looked tired. It seemed to be just a constant state of being with them, perpetual exhaustion with dark circles pressed under their eyes like wax seals.

But today especially they look tired. Heavy eyes, teetering focus, delayed responses to her questions.

As Deana reorganized her files (God knows that she needed to, she had limited space as it was and files took up about half of that), Benrey leaned back in her rolling desk chair, occasionally fiddling with the seat’s height or leaning against its one remaining arm. Deana would ask them questions on occasion, and they would respond with a ‘huh?’ or an incoherent answer about ten seconds later.

She was worried. Were they not sleeping well? Did they just have a bad night? Did they have nightmares? Did something happen? But it wasn’t her place to ask those sorts of things. Deana could admittedly be nosy, but Benrey was especially private.

“Are you alright, Benrey?”

“huh?”

“You seem a tad... floaty?”

“oh, yeah. i’m cool. good cool.”

That seemed to be the extent of that.

Deana looked over about thirty minutes into her organization when she caught a glimpse of Benrey, slumped over on her desk chair, soundly asleep. Deana smiled softly, a quiet chuckle leaving her lips.

“Sleepy, are we not, parce?”

It took her a little while, but soon she managed to situate Benrey before going back to her files.

When Benrey would awaken, they would find themself laying on Deana’s bed, wrapped neatly in a tattered blanket.

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

@othertypcs​:

“um.”

Alarms bellow harsh enough to resonate in their stomach, adding to their growing discomfort. Benrey scans the desks, forced to squint due to the poor lighting. That, and the red lights flashing like fail disco balls.

Vanilla folder, vanilla folder, vanilla folder, nothing seems special. Benrey half turns, vague worry replaced by their usual stone expression. “no, yeah, kinda fucked. should’a brought your creds. now i gotta get dirty.”

Without waiting for a reply, Benrey pelts light grey Sweet Voice towards the surrounding lights. They shatter and the wall behind them dents. Benrey then let out a stream of lemon-yellow Sweet Voice, dimly illuminating the room.

“think pigs are on the way so. get da one up. da cheat codes.”

{ ✩ }

“Wh--?”

Already tension began to creep up in her chest, constricting her heart. The alarms’ blare was enough to shake the whole building, as everything was lit up blood red. Deana bites back a yelp of horror when Benrey suddenly breaks the lights, her arms flying up to protect her head from the glass shards. That ‘Sweet Voice’ thing fills the room with a dim yellow light, with just the two of them there.

Well. Almost two. In fact...

Eyes close, hands are held out in front of her. Deep inhale... deep exhale. “No... no! ¡No tendré miedo! Ay, Dios, por favor protégenos del daño...”

When her eyes open, their dark brown irises now glow acidic green, their light meshing with the bright yellow of the Sweet Voice.

“Viria!” A harshly whispered call as Deana whips around, until she spots the old ghost behind her. (Benrey, of course, would see nothing.) “Please keep watch for us outside. Tell us if anyone is coming.”

“Of course.” Benrey would only hear a hissed whisper, barely audible beneath the sound of the alarms. Viria floated towards the wall and phased right through it.

“Right - right! We need to get out of here. Exits. We need to find the exits before they catch us.”

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

@othertypcs​ asked: 👀 (cont.) ok, rephrase. why are you only liked by the dead even though you're alive. supposedly. you might as well be a ghost with how, y'know, no one alive cares about you

honest answers only | accepting

{ ✩ }  

You have made your choice.

“... Do you know, stranger, how lonely it is to be able to see what others cannot? To be able to see the spirits of those long gone? To have people mock you, constantly, for a gift you are cursed with? To have people laugh and throw rocks at you and steal your things and claim that ‘ghosts did it’? Do you know what it is like to have your family split apart, to have someone you love so dearly in the hands of someone who you do not? Do you, stranger? Because I do.”

She trembles, and shakes, and feels the fire bubbling in her blood as the truth is torn from her. There are years of emotions packed into every syllable she hisses out.

“I know that I have so few in the realm of living companions. But I choose to be a companion to the dead, do you know why? Because, just like me, those spirits just wish for someone to talk to. Someone to listen. The dead are very lonely, you know. Most cannot see them. They watch people go by, invisible to all. But I can see them. And if I can alleviate that pain of loneliness from another being, living or dead, then I choose to do so.

“Do you choose to pick and scratch at very wound another person may have? Perhaps you may need someone to talk to, stranger. But you will not have one if you are so very nasty to them.”

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

@othertypcs​ asked: 👀 dede, why do you think only the disturbed like you ? 

honest answers only | accepting

{ ✩ } 

”... Pardon?”

Eyes narrow, shoulders straighten. Her bubbly self is gone, replaced by one a bit more... professional. There’s an odd look in her eye.

“... Perhaps I misheard you. Surely you are not suggesting what I think you are, no? Surely, just a mistake. A wrong word.”

She’s giving you an out. A chance to back down. To go back on your word and pretend it never happened, so both of you can go about your days.

Will you take it?

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

the letter includes the following: ' two hearts on the floor , one mine , both yours ! there's something in the air , oh , pink to pur p blue ! i can hardly breath around you , we need to run away , away , away ! take flight like cupid , show our lovexe ! be my arrow , would you , dedontde ? '

{ ✩ }

The further she reads, the more enraptured by the words she becomes. Joy flows through veins, feeling as natural and welcome as air, spreading all throughout her body and soul. You can see the hearts in her eyes as she takes in each word, each letter. Lips quirk into a smile, then break into a wide grin, as pure l͘o̕v̷e fills her heart and clouds over her mind.

She squeals in delight, hugging the note tight to her chest. “Oh, ¡estoy tan feliz! Esta carta, oh it is so very sweet!” How does it feel to be loved, Deana? To be loved like this, for who you are. “¡Me encanta! ¡Creo que estoy enamorado~!” Giggling she hugs herself--and the letter--and twirls around in joy.

Over her shoulder floats her guardian spirit, her stalwart companion, with translucent brow drawn low with suspicion. She knew Deana’s spirit, her habits and her reactions, and this... this was not it. This was not the Deana she knew.

Her voice is soft, but holds the weight of age in its tone. “Deana.”

Deana stops spinning and looks to Viria in confusion, eyes quickly flicking to green. “What is wrong, ¿mi mejor amiga? Oh - are you sad that you were not given a love letter? Oh do not worry! Benrey said that they have one for you, as well!”

“No!”

Deana steps back and blinks. Even in her altered state of mind, she was shocked; she had never, ever heard Viria raise her voice.

“Do not show me that letter, Deana.” Something was wrong with it. That letter. She was fine before she read it and now she wasn’t fine. So it had to be the letter. “It is cursed.” That was the best word she could find for it.

Deana laughed (too bubbly, Viria thought, just a touch too much like a cackle). “No, no, it is not cursed! Love is not a curse, es una bendición~!” She twirls in place again, her swishing as she turns.

“Deana, no, you are not understanding!”

As Deana sings and spins, Viria turns her attention to t̸hem̨.̢  They were the one who gave her that letter, and who looked so smug as she fell under whatever curse they had placed upon her.

Ghosts could not be seen, or heard. Not in the way that Viria wanted--needed--them to see her. Deana would have been speaking to no one to them.

But perhaps she could make them listen.

Wrinkled hands reach out and hold Benrey’s face between them. Benrey would feel cold, sheer cold, press against his cheeks and seep through his face into his skull.

“WHAT... DID... YOU... DO?”

The voice sounds as if it were tearing itself out of the underworld, a raspy, inhuman voice. Viria grit her teeth as she focused her power. Ghosts could not be heard traditionally, but perhaps by making such close contact, by trying to reach the depths of his spirit... They would have no choice but to hear her.

“BRING... HER... BACK.”

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

anon asked: deana, please, please i. i need justice, please kill my culprit, please? please do it for me? i need to pass, i need peace, please help me. please.

False confessions of friendly faces | accepting

{ ✩ }

”Shh...”

She sets a candle--lit for them, for this tormented soul--on the ground, just a little ways way from the flowers freshly picked as an offering. Smile is soft, voice is gentle, eyes are understanding behind the bright green glow. A hand reaches up to cusp their cheek--though there is no physical substance, she feels a piercing cold in her hand where they are.

“Ease, friend. You are safe here. I know you must want the same pain inflicted upon you to be given to your murderer, no? ‘Do unto others.’ But it will not bring you peace. It will not bring you satisfaction. I have seen it. Spirits whose killers are long gone, but they linger, because at their core, it is not what they want. Hurting others when they hurt you--it may feel good when it happens, but what is there then? So many talk about an emptiness. Vengeance is a raging fire that leaves nothing in its wake. Nothing to fill that void again.

“I can bring you justice. It will not be through the death of your killer, but the exposure of them. We will strip them of every power they have, so they will never hurt you or anyone ever again. And I will make sure that your voice is heard and your name is said.”

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

@othertypcs​ asked: 👀 + deana, have you ever encountered a spirit you're glad is decased?

Honest answers only | accepting

{ ✩ }

”I... me? No.”

A shake of her head. “While I do not think that people should fear death, I do not wish death upon anyone. Even the worst of humanity have other options of retribution than death.”

A small pause, and a guilty shift of her eyes. “... Though, there was that spirit that ruined Papá’s party a few months ago. While I of course did what I could to help the spirit pass, seeing Papá  in such a frantic state was... well. Forgive me for being spiteful, but it was rather funny. So I am not glad that that person was dead, but rather that they caused the havoc that they did at the right time.”

{ ★ }

[dividedskies]

ic tags let’s go

[dividedskies]

i’m going to be... changing some of dede’s story i think as well as her fc