#[ don't feel you have to match length ]

[the-haunted-office]

(A starter for @alabonshay!)

"As Stanley came to a set of two open doors, he entered the door on his left."

Stanley has forgotten how many times he's heard those words spoken in that order by that voice. Enough times that he doesn't need to be told to take the door on the left anymore, but the voice still feels the need to tell him. That's just how the Narrator is, though. Omnipresent, though perhaps not omniscient. Controlling, but not in control.

Stanley goes ahead and enters the door on the left, though. He has no reason to deviate this time around. Nothing in his gut telling him to go right instead, or to jump off any platforms, or to head down any dark and ominous corridors. Besides, it's not that he wants to listen to the Narrator this time around or that he has any particular gut feelings. He simply wants to see outside, even knowing it isn't real.

It may be the last time he sees the outside ever again, and in his yearning for freedom, he can't help but take whatever he can get.

"-2845- Stanley, have you even been listening to me? I swear, it's like talking to a wall with you sometimes. I don't know why I even bother."

Stanley presses his lips together and enters in the code behind the boss' desk, although he manages to resist rolling his eyes. He hadn't realized he'd been tuning out the Narrator. Everything is on autopilot this time around, it seems, and most of the time through the Story he doesn't even need to listen to the Narrator to know where he needs to go. It's the same thing every time, so what's the point?

The fireplace swings open, the Narrator drones on, and Stanley continues his march, onward toward the Ending he's reached dozens if not hundreds of times before.

Getting there is the boring part, and as the clank and clang of his shoes echo on the concrete floors and metal catwalks, Stanley begins to tune out the voice in the ceiling again.

The voice in the ceiling notices.

Meanwhile neither of them notices when something goes fantastically... different.

"-Stanley decided that this machinery would never again exert its- Stanley, you're just not listening to me, are you? Here you are, seconds away from your freedom, and you're acting like you're a walking corpse. I might as well be talking to one. I don't know why I bother with you sometimes, if I'm honest."

Stanley gives a small shrug in acknowledgment as he enters the door into the room with the Mind Control machine. He can see the blue glow from the enormous monitor just beyond the door. Here, he'll have to make his choice whether to turn the machine On or Off.

"Well, if you're so content with being dead already why don't you- .....What the HELL is THAT?"

Stanley comes to an abrupt halt, because he sees it too. Something is standing there in front of the controls. Something a lot bigger and bulkier than he is, and better dressed to boot.

Lacking any other reasonable way to respond to this situation, the office worker just stands there. And waves a hello.

[aletheialed]

The Chief Prosecutor from overseas, Miles Edgeworth... at first, Rayfa had come here to see him for a completely different reason to the one that's taking up all of her attention now.

Honestly, she doesn't remember the man particularly well. It's no surprise - she was in such an awful state during the time that she'd spent with him that she barely gave him a second thought with everything that had been on her mind. But he'd been kind to her - she remembers that, and she'd wanted to thank him for it. There may have been other reasons for her seeking him out, too, but right now... Rayfa has forgotten about all of them for one very specific reason: the mystery that she's determined to solve.

That is to say - the question of whatever it is she's been experiencing whenever Miles Edgeworth is nearby.

If you were to put her on the spot, she'd say it feels like spiritual power. But that makes no sense. For one thing, Rayfa has never heard of a man having spiritual power! ...Though until recently, she hadn't thought that anyone from outside of Khura'in could channel spirits... and so much of what she'd believed about the spiritual world had been wrong that it would hardly surprise her to learn if she was mistaken about more. Still - it's strange enough to have made her second guess herself. Then, there's her next source of doubt - the fact that Rayfa can't even channel spirits yet herself yet. So can she really trust herself to accurately discern what she's feeling to begin with...?

To be honest, she hates it - being so unsure of herself. It brings up bad memories in her... uncomfortable feelings that she'd hoped she had finally got rid of. But that's exactly why she's so determined to figure this mystery out right now - so much so that it takes her three times until she realized her name has been called by the man she's been staring at for the past half a minute.

"Oh! Ummm...." Suddenly, Rayfa feels awfully embarrassed. Not that she has anything to be embarrassed by, of course! Her curiosity is completely reasonable, and as the future Queen of Khura'in, she is obviously one hundred percent justified of wanting to get to the bottom of this matter!

"Mr. Chief Prosecutor! Did you- say something to me just now?"

@demon-prosecuted ( starter for edgeworth! )

[a-hell-of-a-time-archive]

@copaceticjillybean

There were reasons why the marquis rarely went out alone. He knew that there were some among the lower houses who had it out for him, waiting in the shadows for their moment to strike. While Andrealphus was nowhere near the same status as a prince such as Stolas, he was still high enough in the hierarchy to have a target placed on his back.

This fact was made known to him as he slowly dragged himself down a nearby alley, a bloodied hand clutching his injured arm which was, arguably, the worst of his injuries. If anyone were to even look at his now bruised and battered self, most would not know who he was.

Of course, the fools who tried to jump him ended up worse off. Various headless corpses littered the alley floor behind him, and those who managed to keep their heads were lacking various other parts. Others still were left covered in ice except for the gaping holes where their hearts were supposed to be. It was all quite messy, he thought as shards of ice fell from his hands, the remains of his sword scattering below. Had it been Caim, the cuts would have been far more clean, and the fight finished in an instant. She had always been better than him at this.

A hiss escaped his throat as he leaned against a nearby wall, his vision blurring as pain wracked his body. He had used the majority of his magic in the fight, and it took all of what he had left to remain conscious. He knew he should call for assistance, but his pride and unwillingness to admit that he fucked up big time pushed him forward. If either his sister or Caim were to catch wind of this, he would never live it down. Not to mention that the media would find out and descend upon him like they did when his former brother in law ended up in the hospital.

He had to do this alone.

He would get himself out of this.

He ended up collapsing in the middle of the alley, his vision fading to black before hitting the ground.

[quietlyblooms]

open to mutuals | based on this hc ♡

she had a feeling this would happen.

years of self-regulating have taught chiyo to notice the signs, subtle as they sometimes can be, so her breathlessness does not come as a surprise. she knows the chest pain and dizziness will soon follow, and though she's dealt with this a hundred times over, there is still a sense of panic to get out of view, to hide away and wait for the moment to pass. she doesn't want to be seen like this. she doesn't want to explain how the little things build up inside her until her lungs can no longer expand properly; she doesn't want to explain how the big things drown her, pulling her beneath the waves no matter how strong a swimmer she pretends to be.

that is why chiyo tucks herself in the corner of some room, shrouded in quiet darkness as her chest heaves with effort. the ceiling tiles are dirty. the door's got a silver doorknob. the walls are brown. that's three. i hear the air conditioning. i hear the door opening--- her already racing heart startles in her chest. chiyo tries to make herself smaller, hands shooting up to her mouth to muffle her labored breathing. she doesn't want to be seen like this. she doesn't want to be found. she looks up, brown eyes panicked and brimming with tears.

they see her.

[ash-muses]

♡ Continued from here ♡ For @byondtheveil

"Whoa, uh, just hold on a minute," Dean replied, a hint of sheepishness at the edges of his words. "I mean, let's not get crazy here, all right? Candy is a crucial part of Halloween, huh?" His focus shifted from Rei to the small wagon she was dragging along behind her, licking his lips before he met her gaze again.

Meanwhile, Sam was grinning at his brother's backtracking, knowing that Reianna had gotten under his skin. "You're sure, Dean? I thought you said something about catching a rerun of 'Jeopardy!'," he chimed in, his voice laced with a sliver of amusement and playfulness. His grin only bloomed into a full one when Dean shot him a somewhat vexed look, rolling his eyes at Sam once more.

"All right, all right — you made your point," he brushed it off gruffly, his attention lingering on Sam for a beat longer before turning back to her. It was then that Dean realized that she was dressed as Daphne, his brows quirking up as he scanned over her frame slowly. God, help him, she had always been attractive, but the Daphne costume added a whole new level of... interesting. Clearing his throat and giving her a smile, he met her gaze and gave a slight inclination of his head, "Anyway, uh... you're looking good, Rei. Let's get this show on the road, huh?"

Sam, noticing the almost imperceptible undertones in the older Winchester's response, arched his brows and glanced between the two of them for a second before he spoke up. "Yeah, I'll help you set up," he offered, standing up and moving around the table to join her side. Grabbing the larger pumpkins first, he carefully moved them to the table, where Dean took hold of them and continued to set up their area. When they had finished, Sam gave her a small, friendly smile and gestured lightly to the set up, "Thanks for bringing all of that, by the way — you really didn't have to. Dean and I could have supplied some of it."

"Hey, I mean, we're supplying the place, the beer, and a touch of the good ol' Winchester charm," Dean interjected with a smirk as he began poking around in some of the bags, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Cake?" he began with a slight, playfully offended tone, "Where's the pie?" But he was cut off by Sam's sharp response.

"Dean," he scolded, annoyed by his seemingly ungrateful response. Then, more gently but firmly, he added, "It's close enough, right?" Shaking his head, he moved to take his seat at the table, set aside his laptop, and pulled over one of the pumpkins. Sam shot an apologetic look toward Reianna, lips pressed into a thin line.

With a suppressed sigh, Dean stared after his younger brother for a minute before he addressed her instead, knowing that was Sam's way of telling him that he might have unintentionally crossed a line. "I'm sorry, Rei," he stated steadily, a hint of sincerity at the edges of his words. "I don't mean to come across as ungrateful. You've done a lot for us and this is great, so... thanks." With a small, genuine smile, Dean stepped forward and brushed his hand against her arm gently in a chaste gesture, his appreciation evident in his verdant gaze.

[mad-hunts]

jokethur asked: ❝ that's not the worst thing i've ever heard but it's certainly up there. ❞

one might argue that the way barton huffed through his nostrils in a wry sense of disbelief at what he heard come out of the other's mouth, rather than at the terrible thing that was just said through his own lips without an ounce of shame, told you everything you needed to know about him; that he was a brutal and very unfeeling person. but honestly, even if those things were the least bit true, barton thought... he was only saying what everyone would be thinking in their heads if they knew what was really going on behind the scenes. they just wouldn't want to say it aloud for one reason or another, whether that was due to the fear of being ostracized by their peers, or frowned down upon by society as a whole. kind of like how he was currently by the man standing beside him.

barton took a long drag out of his cigarette and averted his gaze from one of the big, bright displays that decorated the skyline to meet the others eyes. the displays were showcasing what looked like the latest news: and that was what barton seemingly was making a comment on, as the death of a cop that was rather infamous for being a ' pinnacle of kindness and care to their community ' was the main headline for that day. except that man was everything but in reality. it was just so rich to be seeing him regarded as some fantastic guy, when barton knew for a fact that he was a sleazeball who he had seen hanging around his old boss, as he was secretly in their pocket and doing their dirty work. and if there was one person that barton held contempt for more than anything... it was the man who used to treat him like he was something less than human. or, less than dirt, actually.

but of course, barton would never tell the gcpd of his corruption because he knew that rainer (you have to put a face to the name for these people) would realize that it was him who'd sold him out. and besides... since when did he have faith in the gcpd, or even like the police? they were all a bunch of pigs to him. so, barton let him continue on with his little game of playing the role of the well-beloved police officer while he was helping people get killed on the side. he rolled his eyes then, ❝ well, if i had known that you were such a big fan of the police, then i likely wouldn't have said anything. but i rest my case: a lot of people do deserve to die, stranger, and he was one of them. so i don't feel sorry for him or his family at all. ❞

barton stated this all in a very matter-of-fact manner, blowing smoke out through his nose from his cigarette before he continued, ❝ i mean, where was this guy if he was so good whenever the city got flooded? i didn't see him among the people who were helping other's whenever everything went to shit. in fact, i bet he was probably sitting in some place really safe and warm whenever it happened, because i knew the real kind of person that he was. a total prick who certainly wasn't the golden boy that the news is trying to make him out to be, ❞ he flicked his cigarette down on the ground and smushed it underneath his boot, successfully putting out the fire on its other end. barton turned to face arthur completely with an unamused look in his eyes.

❝ now, are you done preaching to me about how wrong it is that i said that? you don't really know the first thing about the pig after all. but i do. though you didn't hear that from me, alright? ❞

[jdxculpepper]

who: @matidelacruz where: main street market

It had been a few days since Noah had mentioned seeing Matti, but regardless of how much time had passed, JD could not erase the other man from his thoughts. He should have been able to, rather easily, he thought, but instead, he found his thoughts constantly drifting back towards his ex. JD wondered what he was doing at that moment. So, when he glanced up and saw said man standing a mere few feet away, he couldn't help but think that his brain was playing tricks on him.

It had done that a lot in the days following their break up (a kind word for the reality of what had happened.) In those days, JD would see Matias standing just at the edge of his vision; he'd feel his heart begin to race and his breathing hitch, and find himself glancing down at his phone to see if a message had popped up only to remind himself that he'd blocked the other man's number the same night he'd realized that he'd fallen head over heels in love and had done the only thing he could to solve this inconvenient problem -- hidden himself away in his cabin for two weeks until he was sure that the message had come across loud and clear.

But no, the man standing across the way from him was definitely real JD realized almost at the same time that he realized he'd been staring for far too long. "Those aren't the kind of tomatoes you usually get," he heard himself say. It would have been a ridiculous thing to say under the best of circumstances, but considering he hadn't said a single word to this man in two years, least of all the apology and explanation he desperately deserved, the words were even more ridiculous. "I mean... get whatever tomatoes you want to."

[inmensapotentia]

Kisuke had asked Juushiro to come to the living world so they could do some tests on his new Hollow capabilities, hoping to test them to see if he could hold a mask for longer than a few seconds. Though the handful of seconds he could summon his mask was plenty for him to become a threat, not totally able to tell friend and foe apart. Which was why Shunsui had decided to accompany him to the World of the Living; he was the only one that Juushiro had so far proven able to identify with his mask in place. Shunsui's lieutenants could manage things for a day or two. Honestly Nanao could probably do a better job than just about anyone after the years she'd spent dealing with Shunsui.

Everything had seemed to be going well.

Up until the cleaner suddenly appeared while they were in the senkaimon. That was most definitely not supposed to be happening.

Hands automatically clasping, the two ran towards the light at the end of the tunnel. Leaping from the portal, they both caught themselves in the air, reiatsu gathering under their feet without any real effort. Panting from the unexpected run, the two of them looked at each other seriously. Though it soon devolved into soft laughing from both of them as they calmed their racing hearts.

Looking down at the city below them, Juushiro frowned slightly as he took in the view. Something didn't seem right about the concrete jungle below them. "Does...something look...strange to you?"

Shunsui looked down as well and Juushiro's frowning proved contagious. "I don't think we made it to Karakura Town."

"Perhaps we should verify?" It made more sense than wasting time going back to the Seireitei to come back to the Land of the Living; if they were lucky they'd just missed by a town or two and could get there quickly enough.

Nodding his agreement, the brunet began walking down through the air to the ground. While they likely couldn't be seen by anyone, those who could tended to be uncommon, they still made sure to come down to the ground in an empty alleyway. As they did, Juushiro dug out a small silver tin from his pocket. Inside were a couple of portable gigai; one for each of them.

Quickly slipping into their gigai's, the two Captain's stepped out of the alleyway, practically running over a petite woman. Shunsui was quick to steady her, one large hand gripping her upper arm firmly. "Sorry, are you okay?"

[eleanorxshipley]

FOR: @drrutherford

EVENT: Mistletoe Event (Canon / Flashback - several years ago)

WHERE: Christmas party at mutual friend's place.

One of Eleanor's favorite parts of the holiday season was the opportunity to catch up with friends she hadn't much of a chance to throughout the year. It seemed regardless of how busy everyone was, most made a point to gather together around Christmastime. It wasn't so much the warmth of the holiday punch and eggnog that had Eleanor feeling a little buzzed; after all, she hadn't much except for a few polite sips. The atmosphere of the place enveloping her with inviting scents of cinnamon and clove - and the familiar faces and bear hugs had her spirits high and happy. Everywhere she turned there was a decoration of Santa, or reindeer, or other magical creatures. She also noticed many sprigs of mistletoe dangling from precarious places and tried her best to duck each and every one. Newly single, she was ready for a fresh year to focus on just herself for a change. Unfortunately that would have been easier if her ex-boyfriend wasn't in attendance.

Bouncing from one group of chums to another, Eleanor excitedly listened to everyone's plans and goals for the upcoming year, or accomplishments of the past, chiming in with her own when asked. Eventually she found herself with Gideon and some pals, and she was eager to catch up with him as it had been a while. Although Eleanor had always been closest to Lara, she had a soft spot for all of the Rutherfords in her heart. Gideon was no exception to that. Eleanor hadn't realized until others in their group pointed out that they were centered right beneath one of of the mistletoe sprigs she had so decidedly tried to avoid. She ignored the others teasing about the two of them sharing a kiss, even as all eyes on them had her cheeks growing hot. It wasn't that Eleanor had any qualms with kissing Gideon. After all, he was quite the catch, and one of her favorite people. But also, wouldn't it make things incredibly awkward? She worried.

Eleanor didn't have much time to linger on that concern as she noticed Matthew making his way through the crowd. She pretended not to take notice, but could feel his seething gaze on her. Again. Already three times he had tried to trap her in a corner with a bushel of mistletoe, she refusing and reminding that she wanted nothing to do with him. After the the way he had treated her, there was no option for a second chance. He was persistent as ever though, and on instinct Eleanor grabbed Gideon's hand tightly. It might be the only way to keep her from socking her ex in the face. Green eyes rose, bashfully landing on Gid's face as she tilted her head and offered a tiny smile. Eleanor had a hunch he had noticed who was approaching and could read her well enough to play along. Inching onto her tiptoes, she cupped his cheek gently, her lips lifting into a more playful expression.

"They'll never shut up if we don't." She leaned in a bit. "Kill two birds with one stone?"

[guardiandamned]

If the past Ryouga could see himself today, he would've laughed out loud in disbelief - or maybe he'd have been furious. Even now he finds it hard to believe what he's doing- seeking out the person he called his enemy for so long, who he hated to the rotten depths of his heart... and for what? A heart-to-heart?

It's not like he was prepared for it at all - not with the way he is now, uncertain and wavering, raw and desperate for a way out in a way he's never experienced before. But right now, Ryouga is even more thrown than he expected. Because the person standing before Ryouga isn't IV... but III.

Ryouga has never known what to make of him. He'd always been so focused on his older brother that III himself had escaped his attention. He gives off the kind of aura of a harmless kid, easy to dismiss out of hand, and yet... that's nothing more than a carefully crafted deception. Or maybe it's not crafted at all? The idea that his gentle demeanor really is genuine, but that it doesn't make him any less dangerous... it's quite the scary thought, really.

How would III react if he found out what Ryouga really is? It's been a mere day or so since Ryouga found out himself, even if he'd been suspecting it for longer than that. But the Barians, after all, are the enemy of III's family, the one's who'd used them and caused him so much pain - a pain that Ryouga is bitterly familiar with in a way that now feels all too horribly ironic. He doesn't know what to do. What is he supposed to say? Why is Ryouga- no, Nasch, leader and Emperor of the Barians, frozen in place here like nothing more than a child?

"...I wasn't expecting you here." He recovers quickly, his usual scowl settling over his features once again - but on the inside, he feels sick. "I guess IV's hiding away, then? ...What a coward, as always."

@tophatz ( starter for iii! )

[jamie-prescott]

Once he’d finished classes for the day, Jamie dropped his things off back in his dorm and changed out of his jeans into a pair of athletic pants to go with his t-shirt. He slid a jacket on and made his way toward the gym. He’d been practicing more since he’d asked Kyla for help to decide if he wanted to try out for cheer at all, but today he felt more of a drive to run and figured one of the treadmills would suffice since the weather was a bit rainier and drearier today, which might also be affecting his mood.

Jamie had known he’d feel homesick again once his parents had left but knowing it and now feeling it were two completely different things. His father had warned him not to let it take over and control him, and that was part of the reason Jamie had chosen to keep to himself, so he wouldn’t pass along his less than happy mood to those he had come to care about here.

The submissive took a moment to stretch his muscles as he stopped by the treadmills. There only seemed to be one other person currently in the gym and they were lifting weights and doing their own thing. Jamie stepped onto the machine and started off with a slow jog as he found his groove as he ran, slowly increasing the speed to a steady jog as his mind started to go blank as it normally did when he ran. He barely registered the fact someone had approached until he realized they seemed to be speaking to him. “I am so sorry.” Jamie apologized as he reached up to slow the machine down so he could pay attention. “I didn’t realize you were talking to me.”

[sea-of-flxmes]

// @lultimagoccia starter for you!

                       ✦• · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · •✦

        Ah, the land of the dead. The Underground, as they called it in Shibuya.

A plane of existence in which Reapers possessed superhuman strength and stamina. Where eating and sleeping could be performed on a whim, or never at all. Where functional wings could take any Reaper to the furthest reaches of the city (sky's the limit, baby!).

But now, reincarnated as a regular human, Nywe could no longer enjoy those otherworldly privileges. She was stuck again in a body that needed food and rest to function. A conglomeration of muscles, organs and bones that demanded her constant attention, from the growling of her stomach to her racing thoughts, impulses and nightmares.

        Oh God, the nightmares.

The last Reaper's Game Nywe participated in had been a monumental disaster. One in every two nights she would wake up with a start, her mind reeling from the horrifying things she had witnessed during those endless seven Days. If adjusting to a new body wasn't tiring enough, there was also her hectic life as an exchange student in Shibuya. Soon, Nywe started to lag behind on her studies, unable to keep up no matter how hard she tried. Despair eventually took over, and during a particularly intense moment of crisis Nywe had a epiphany:

        She had to get the hell outta there, and pronto.

So she packed her things, filled all required forms to take a sabbatical year, and embarked on a journey to reconnect with herself. Nywe visited one location after another with no clear goal in mind, until her travels brought her to a pizzeria on the edge of a small town.

Besides its logo, something else drew Nywe's attention: on the front door, there was a ❝ HELP WANTED ❞ sign. Curiosity got the better of her, and she stepped inside without a second thought; maybe she could start a new life far away from a city that threatened to devour her whole. ❝ Hello? ❞ Nywe spoke in a somewhat meek tone. ❝ I would like to apply for a job here—if you're still hiring, that is. ❞

[ruinedsoulsrp]

Starter for @missautumn based on this

Gemma had never particularly understood the point of marriage, especially if you'd already been with someone as long as Crystal and James had been together, but they were finally deciding to tie the knot; a whole big destination wedding in Fiji, and when she'd been asked to be the Maid of Honor, she couldn't say no. Besides, what idiot would turn down Fiji?

The only major downside was that of course, James' best friend was the accompanying Best Man, and Gem had never been particularly fond of him. It was like he'd never grown up, and he had this amazing skill of constantly finding her last nerve and getting right on it. Thankfully, their seats hadn't been too near each other on the plane, but as she walked toward her room in the resort, she turned around to see him behind her and her brows furrowed slightly. "Are you following me?" she questioned, a slight smirk coming to her lips. "Don't think a tropical vacation is going to make me come around to you." she assured.

[quietlyblooms]

open to mutuals | in which chiyo doesn't want them to leave <3

" thank you, " softly chiyo mutters as laces are untied and shoes discarded, careful hands helping her beneath a comforter that feels heavenly against her skin. typically she'd never go to bed in street clothes, but the night calls for an exception; she's had just a tad too much to drink, feels much too tired to worry about dirty clothes. no, chiyo's more concerned with squeezing her pillow as tightly as she can ( the pressure against her chest soothes something that she can't name, doesn't want to name ).

she feels the bed shift as her companion stands, and eyes like melted chocolate stare up at them. belatedly chiyo realizes she's grabbed hold of their wrist but doesn't let go. belatedly she realizes she's allowed her pillow to fall to the ground, half-risen upon an elbow, though she doesn't care. she just doesn't want them to leave.

" could you stay a while longer? " her voice sounds so small, fragile. " please? "

[radioiaci]

⧐ @alastors-mom-rp

Sentiment is not often a word that Alastor considers to be in his vocabulary. Even when it is clearly something he still harbors somewhere in the muck and bile of his ever-tainted Soul. When memories trudge their way up and into the forefronts of his mind, he actively pushes them aside - they will do him no good, on most days. But sometimes, they are pervasive: the thoughts of an old friend lost, the grief given to missed opportunities, and the subtle reminders that he had once been human. Given life, given connection, given family.

His father now was of no consequence, divorced entirely from even the very concept of family and thought of as nothing more than a sickening display of humanity's worst. An example to be made. But his mother...? Another fact and figure entire.

Alastor had spent the better part of his childhood glued to her side, an ever present and doting son by any measure. Well behaved and proper, though he'd always had an issue with her insistence on pulling him into the musty old churches filled with proselytizing simpletons in an attempt to convince him to cement his Soul as one meant to eventually traverse past the pearly gates. He was certain she would be disappointed that he'd never bothered to follow the rites and rituals.

But she had other reasons to be disappointed in him. Since the taking of his own familial fate in his hands - the sharpened kitchen knife being thrust so artfully and purposefully into his father's rather pliant and aged flesh (ahh, such a sweet, uniquely heinous display) - she had grown so distant as to be nearly unrecognizable. Or maybe it was he himself who was unrecognizable.

That oh-so-blessed dance of Death that he began to fall into step with had all but eluded her until he was more than an adult - and thriving, to boot. It had only been his sloppy confidence that had resulted in her discovery of his acts at all.

And then she no longer looked at him. Did not call on him. No longer opened the door to him when he made attempts to see her. Continually, he lied to himself. Perhaps she would see reason eventually.

At least, he'd thought, she had not betrayed him to the authorities. Not that it mattered much when he took the bullet to the brain only a few months later. Her fate remained a mystery. Surely, she'd gone to Heaven. She'd always been religious. And so Alastor resigned himself to never being given the opportunity to apologize - to tell her the things he should have in their life together.

But, as he stood with umbrella in hand, unfocused gaze drifting somewhere vaguely upwards at some of the gaudier signs that decorating the buildings in the Pride ring's busier districts that continued to flicker despite the acid rain, he did not think that he would have been able to find the strength to apologize anyway. Or the introspection.

Alastor did not regret his kills. Not a single one. Whether innocent or otherwise. It had all been in pursuit of the craft. Justified, in his mind, because who among them had not Sinned? Not he, and certainly not any of the collective of bodies he'd masterfully subjected to his own machinations and eventual disposal among the murky waters of the Louisiana bayou. All to serve their purpose. A noble cause for any man or woman.

A foolish thought, he decided, to think that his mother would ever consider him any more than what he was.

Perhaps he'd always known.

[exsanguinatc]

plot: Cody is a reclusive but popular cam girl and OF creator, going by Selene online, and she keeps her identity close to her chest, but an obsessive fan has discovered who she is and thinks it's time they meet. Just give me obsessive, stalker energy. Bonus points for masks, spooky things, other supernatural creatures, etc. muse: Cody Kessler, 23, dhampire, The Scavenger open to: m 21+

Days had passed since Cody had actually left her home. Sometimes she went longer. It wasn't like she really needed to, and she was most comfortable there anyway. There was nobody else there. Nobody could truly look at her as she was; nobody could see her. She was safe there, but there was only so much that she could get delivered to her door. One of the only people she saw regularly was a costume designer across town. Halloween was a busy season for her, and there were quite a few outfits that she needed to be fitted for. She'd gone there and then straight back.

But her building didn't provide the same refuge that night. As she walked rode the elevator up and then made her way through the hall towards her apartment, something felt...off. She stood in front of her door for a long few moments and just stared at it like she was trying to decide what about it was different. Finally, she shook her head at her own silliness and unlocked the door only to find her key turning smoothly without the lock turning. Maybe that was it. Maybe her subconscious had been turning over the fact that she'd forgotten to lock her door. It wasn't the first time it had happened, so she shrugged it off and stepped inside before making sure the door was locked behind her. Stranger than the unlocked door though, was when the open curtains and the view out into the night from her living room caught her eye. She never opened her curtains. The strangeness of the sight was almost enough to distract her from the sound of...of something deeper in the apartment.

Cody looked over her shoulder before shaking her head. It was an old building. Her nerves were still raw from the day out in the world. She was sure that she was most likely imagining whatever she'd heard and stepped to the windows to draw her curtains and shut the world out once more.