#|| Eveline: I didn't sign on for this (about)
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meryllfrey · 8 months ago
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Eveline Gallo -- Witcher
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NAME: Eveline Gallo, The Ermine RACE: Elf (Aen Seidhe) PROFESSION: Thief
Eveline Gallo is an elven acrobat in the Falling Stars' Wandering Circus, specializing in rhythmic gymnastics and tight-rope walking. She is not above a bit of thievery.
To rob a vault, one must force open armor-plated doors and secret away mounds of loot. First and foremost, however, one needs to get inside the building containing said vault. To accomplish this, Geralt could use the help of a certain Eveline Gallo – a circus performer famed through all the North, and who, it seemed, used her considerable talents for less law-abiding purposes as well

As is often the case in life, Eveline was willing to help, but only in exchange for a favor: the witcher had to save her circus troupe from humiliation. He duly performed the required feat, and the limber elfess then joined the break-in crew.
Eveline Gallo performed as tasked and guided Geralt and his accomplices into the auction house. Yet as soon as the heist stopped going according to plan and Redanian soldiers surrounded the auction house, she shimmied up and out the chimney and was never seen by Geralt again.
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simplegenius042 · 11 days ago
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Music Monday & WIP Tuesday
Tagging @voidika @raresvtm @josephseedismyfather @noodlecupcakes @imogenkol @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies @aceghosts @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @derelictheretic @davrinsgriffons @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who'd like to join.
Got three Hellaverse songs for my The UnTitledverse and Life, Despair & Monsters series and one FC5 WIP for The Silver Chronicles, and since we're coming up on "No John January", I thought to might as well show off one final snippet of John right on this post before never mentioning him for a whole-ass month (instead the only Seed siblings to get that honor would be the rest of them, mostly his brothers, right up until "Only Faith February", where she's the only Seed to talk about).
Listen and read below the cut:
First song is for The UnTitled Ventures saga of The UnTitledverse, where I imagine Joaquin Lockwood would be singing this lullaby as an assurance to both Eveline and Elise that if anything were to happen to him, he'll make sure they will be fine. His daughters are pretty much his driving motivation in his decisions throughout this saga. Listen below:
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"It always seems more quiet in the dark It always feels so stark How silence grows under the moon Constellations gone so soon
I used to think that I was bold I used to think love would be fun Now all my stories have been told except for one
As the stars start to align I hope you take it as a sign That you'll be okay Everything will be okay."
The next song is for my Hellaverse WIP Smile Tunes. Now in the scene this song takes place in, Krunk and Samuel are on a date at Ozzie's, but when BlitzĂž and Stolas are outed by Asmodeus and Fizzarolli, neither stand up for the IMP boss nor the Goetia Prince, in order to not be outed as dating, which a dramatic point for Krunk and his boss (as well as Krunk and the Morningstar's Royal Advisor he's dating). This sets up an arc that eventually pays off in this WIP's version of "Mastermind". [CW: This song involves references to sexual references]
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"Is that Blitzo? So you're showin' your face? Hey, everybody, this guy's a total disgrace! Some nerve you've got to comment on a relationship Last I checked, your love life is a pile of shit!"
"Oh, Blitzo? I used to date him." ("Date him, date him!")
"Oh, Verosika, you're here."
"I'd stroke him, I'd fellate him ("Fellate him, fellate him!") Yeah, but when it was my turn ("My turn, my turn!") He did no reciprocatin' ("What a dick-bag!") A selfish imp in the sheets, and just as bad in the streets A reckless, heartbreaking freak!"
"Who's that at your table? Is your date a demon prince? Stolas, is that you?"
"Are you sleepin' with an imp?"
"Woo! My dark lord, how the mighty do fall You used to have a smokin' wife, a kid, you had it all I hope you didn't give it up so you and him could get it up!"
And lastly, this song is a singing simplification of how Icarus manages to resolve the gap between him and Hatter, managing to reach a resolution where avatar and parasite can finally communicate with one another in their original WIP from my Life, Despair & Monsters series. And yes... it involved Icarus drinking a spiked tea that one of his alters, Xavier, left out for him in order to get both him and Hatter to speak to each other through their weird-ass dimension breaking connection. Since Moxxie's the only person singing in this song while BlitzĂž's part only involves dialogue, I though it was only necessary for Icarus/Hatter to since Moxxie's part:
[CW: References to recreational drug use and sexual references]
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"Hatter*? I can't see you God, this smells awful! What's that music? Is that you? Is this a prank? Because I swear to-"**
"It is no prank, bitch!"
"Hey! Why do you sound like that?"
"Because you, my precious little bitch boy-"
"Stop it, Hatter*!"
"-are tripping balls!"
"No! What? How could this be? I've never tried acid, shrooms or DMT It's a bad trip, oy gevalt! Of course, Hatter*, this would be your fault!
My lungs are full of honesty Would you promise me That you won't judge?"
"Yes, bitch!"
"Not trying to divulge too much But I'm in too deep, so first of all
Fuck you!"
"What?!"
"This is just typical Well, two can play at this game of dismay 'Cause if I'm here where you're causing frustration*** Xavier and Hinode must be experiencing their own hallucinations!****
Why do you hurt me so?"*****
"I know!"
"Why must you push our friends away?"***** "I push my friends away!"
"Why does it seem like a recurring theme That you alienate with your toxic routine?"
"I don't know, eventually everyone goes!"
"'Cause you're thoughtless and cruel and you'll end up alone!"
"Why, Icarus*, why Have you held your true feelings inside?"
"I am scared of rejection!"
"Why, Icarus, why Do you reach so close for the sun?"******
"Because I'm an arrogant perfectioni- Wait a minute!"*******
"No need to hide We accept your true feelings, so promise me!"
"That I can do..." "...to be true!"
"The world is your anus so peg it with honesty!"
"Ugh..."
"I've been a jackass, it's true!"
"I've been a jackass, it's true!"
"But as soon as we're back to our normal selves."
"I will be a better friend than I was before!"
"Be better at speaking my mind!"
"And together, we can begin To become fine!"
[*Changed names to Icarus and Hatter since that's the focus. **Their not in Hell, so Satan's name wouldn't make sense. ***Since Icarus is only speaking to Hatter due to their shared connection being high enough, it wouldn't make sense for Hatter to be experiencing his own hallucinations when he's sharing it with Icarus, so just changed it to the reason below. ****Changed for the reasons above to Icarus noticing that Hatsukami and Xavier aren't with him and Hatter and makes the safe assumption that they're elsewhere in the recesses of his tripping mind. *****Changed it to collective pronouns (us/our) since Hatter's actions isn't just affecting Icarus. ******Icarus doesn't have a partner yet and also sex-averting so just changed it to a inside joke of his name. *******Icarus does not enjoy the joke that much despite being self-aware of the similarities between him and his famous namesake. >< Also Icarus saying "Ugh" towards Hatter's words is more an annoyed groan towards Hatter's lack of filter (where Icarus just finally gives up on trying to get Hatter to speak in a less vulgar manner) rather than the description of the action itself.]
Here's a WIP snippet for You're Almost Like Family where John finishes conversing with Silva at the gas station... before his loop restarts once more: [CW: Character death and minor description of gore]
The Deputy regarded him with a stoic mask, clearly processing the information he revealed to her.
It reminded John of Jacob in a way, but also of Faith, although the latter had a knack for copying qualities of the former.
The Deputy was quite a paranoid woman, as he's come to discover in these loops. She was, for the most part, closed-off to her allies, and held distrust towards strangers, even more so towards those she perceived as her enemies. She lacked belief in the Father and the Project long before she came to arrest his brother.
He was aware he had a hand in that, even if he doesn't know how. Although he wondered if this distrust went further back before even her arrival in the county.
The Deputy tapped her fingers against the belt around her hips, chewing against her cheek, before exhaling through her nose.
Moment of truth; did she believe him, or was he going to die a brutal death again? Though John was no longer a stranger to death, how the Deputy kills him was always a gamble of how much it was going to hurt.
Especially since she had no weapons, and there was a smashed plate nearby.
When her grey eyes gazed to him, she responded, "And I suppose since that directly goes against your family's whole mission of converting me to your cult, you'd want to inform me of this as soon as possible. Yeah, that weirdly makes too much sense."
John felt relief wash over him once more, his grin even more excited now that he's made actual progress. Though he wasn't finished yet, it was a step closer to his goal of saving her soul now that she believed him.
"Exactly," John told her, though toned his excitement down when she eyed him as if he was the strange one, "Now that we're on the same page, I want to propose a temporary truce between you and the Resistance in Holland Valley. Until this threat is successfully dealt with."
The Deputy raised a brow, inquiring, "And what makes you think this mystery killer is going to stick to Holland Valley?"
John didn't actually know. He's just been going off of what he's witnessed from previous loops. He doesn't actually have evidence to suggest most of her deaths were deliberate assassinations or sabotage.
However, what he did know is that wherever the Deputy was, her killer would likely be somewhere nearby.
He of course couldn't tell the Deputy any of this; the first time he told her, she called him a horrendous liar, and the last time he tried again, she outright told him she didn't believe him before attempting to escort him to the judgement of Fall's End... only to enter a truck that he could only guess had been planted with an explosion.
That... had been amongst his least pleasant memories in these loops.
And it wasn't like he could prove it to her. No matter what, the circumstances kept changing, too many factors were always shifting and it was rare for the Deputy to do or say the same thing twice as a result.
So instead John spoke as close to the truth as possible, if only to ease the Deputy's uncertainty, "Call it a hunch, dear. I've prosecuted and defended many in my time as an attorney, and if there's something I've learned about killers, they like to remain at a distance that isn't too far from their prey."
The Deputy did that curious little hum that he's always found endearing; it was short, too short for his liking, but he liked the sound of it. Made her seem beyond the remorseless killer full of wrath that his faithful had fallen to.
Thankfully, she didn't argue against his words.
"So a truce until we can dispatch whoever is after me?" she repeated his conditions, looking to him for confirmation, "That's it, right?"
While John was tempted into trying to push the Deputy into a deal that would benefit his family, he didn't want to fuck up this chance of gaining her cooperation in dealing with this threat.
Though John knew she'd be tempted in utilizing this in trying to gain her own conditions to her agreement, he decided to add.
"Yes, that's all I offer. Neither your rebellion nor my faithful will shed blood in this Valley. I'm unwilling to negotiate anything else until this threat is dealt with."
It'd do wonders for him if she'd stopped dying altogether.
She seemed displeased by that, and opened her mouth to argue.
Instead he retorted, "Besides, wouldn't you rather be alive if wanted to get Deputy Hudson back? I think it'd be counterintuitive if you wasted precious time better spent on hunting down your assassin."
She glared at him, but conceded in silence.
"Alright," she replied, reluctantly adding, "I'll agree to this truce. But I'm not sure how likely the Resistance will believe you. Do you have evidence on hand that could help better help us in convincing them?"
...Evidence?
John's previous joy was replaced by frustration at himself. How could I not have thought of that?!
"Uh, not on me, no," he admitted sheepishly, cringing at overlooking such an important detail, "But I'll gather it up back at the Ranch and Gate."
In other words, he was gonna have to quickly find something that would convince those sinner's to not disagree with his offer.
"I guess we'll rendezvous again when we do," the Deputy stated, and for that John could almost feel himself relax until she added, "But if it turns out to be an elaborate trap-"
John cut her off, "Yes, I understand, Deputy. I'm not going to deceive you into an ambush. You have my word."
The Deputy didn't seem completely convinced, and he suspected his word didn't mean much to her, but she was going to have to be satisfied with it.
"If that's all, I'm going to head back to Fall's End," the Deputy said, turning to leave. While John didn't believe Fall's End was the safest option for her, he knew he really can't do much about that.
He did think about using Bliss to incapacitate and bring her back to his Gate, but he ultimately decided against it; not only would he have a pissed-off Deputy who'd be even more resistant going after him, which could lead to Hudson's escape as well, but the assassin has proven to have an unfair expertise in infiltrating his family's troops.
It'd be a redundant effort on his part. At least with the Sinner's home base, the Deputy would be surrounded by her allies, and if she believes anything he's said thus far, would be on guard.
Though before she left, he couldn't help but ask one last question.
"You know, Deputy," John said, earning her attention, "I know neither of us are on the best of terms, but since it shouldn't be such a big deal to you, I'd appreciate it if you told me what your name is?"
Her brows furrowed as her expression shifted from confused to surprised realization, "You don't know what my name is?"
John blinked, cocking his head before shaking it, "No?"
"Hadn't Nancy, I don't know, given you my files beforehand?"
Ah, so she's assumed we knew she'd joined the force, John mused. Obviously she believed the arrest was an orchestrated ambush, and not God connecting their fates together. He'd clear up that misconception then.
"Nancy wasn't in a position to have access of such documents, I'm afraid. And given her role, she wouldn't have been able to inform us about your addition on the Marshal's taskforce," he informed her.
The Deputy hummed, looking to the side before her grey eyes returned to his blue, "And if I don't tell you?"
John just shrugged, "Then there's not much I can do then, is there, Deputy? Although, I have to ask, do you really want me to keep calling you Deputy for the remainder of the Reaping?"
She snorted, "I wouldn't have cared much until you kept pronouncing it that way."
He found offense to that, but refrained from making a comment as the Deputy looked down in contemplation, her stoic face giving away nothing.
When she looked back to him, his excitement was short-lived when he noticed a shadow enter through the station's door.
"It's-"
No words were quick enough to escape out of his throat when the back and front of the Deputy's skull exploded into chunks of flesh, brain and blood that sprayed onto him, with the bullet propelling through towards its next target.
John could see how it slowly made its way towards the bridge of his nose, the Deputy's fresh corpse limply falling forwards towards him at much the same pace.
He forced his eyes to gaze towards the assassin's figure, feeling the agonizing effects of the loop preparing his next restart.
He wondered if the assassin had followed him or the Deputy here, or if they had just been passing by.
Regardless, they had just nullified all his efforts to get to this point.
Desperate to not waste the remaining seconds left before either the bullet or the loop take him, he stared hard at the figure afar, their weapon drawn, so effortlessly quick, faster than he'd seen Silva draw her own.
He noticed the assassin was heavily draped in the Sinners usual clothing. And although difficult, John could also notice the unshaven stubble across the culprit's unfamiliar face.
John's eyes tried to capture more of what he saw of the assassin but the pounding ache once more resonated into his head as he-
The chapel's door's closed, indicating the Deputy and Joseph's departure, and all John could do to avoid falling off the podium behind his brother and sister again was reach for the wood behind him to steady his shaking legs.
He felt nauseous from being that close to such gore, but soon it was replaced with jubilation as he now learned of a new detail about the Deputy's killer.
But even that feeling didn't last when he realized where and when he was.
With no way to better process his raging frustration at his efforts being reduced to nothing, he articulated all of anger through one single word.
"FUCK!" he shouted, alarming Jacob and spooking Faith.
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sooperstarx · 8 months ago
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MammaMia fanfic Chapter 2 ‌
Finally, the uneventful day came to an end. Mia got up from her chair and cautiously walked towards Miranda's area. The lab seemed more like an office than a place for research, and obviously wasn't Miranda's personal space, as there was a surprising lack of equipment. Mia chose not to inquire about it. She didn't know much about Miranda, and her understanding of Miranda's association with The Connections was even more limited. Despite Miranda often mentioning Eveline in their conversations, Mia remained unaware of the motives behind Miranda's fascination. Mia entered the office by pushing the door, only to discover that it was even more poorly illuminated than the previous room she had been in. It didn't take long for Mia to realize that she had forgotten to knock, as Miranda shot her a disapproving look with her mesmerizing blue eyes. Timidly, Mia entered the room and positioned herself across from Miranda's desk, where the blonde woman sat calmly, her fingers intertwined and a slightly impatient expression on her face. Mia inquired, feeling uneasy in her position, "Have I made a mistake?" The room felt excessively chilly, even with the numerous candles providing the sole illumination. Miranda tilted her head and let out a sigh.
"You seem preoccupied," Miranda stated calmly, causing Mia to long for her previous friendly attitude. "If the brief period you're here in my laboratory is to be worthwhile, you must utilize it fully." Mia softly uttered an apology, briefly averting her gaze. How could she not be consumed by her thoughts? She found herself confined in a marriage devoid of love, persistently encircled by a woman she reluctantly acknowledged as alluring, despite her aversion to admitting it. Miranda sneered inwardly, as though she could decipher Mia's innermost thoughts. "Concentrate, young lady. Failure to do so will result in repercussions," she warned, causing Mia to retreat in fear. Repercussions? Mia contemplated the words of Miranda. What was the reason behind her allowing herself to be manipulated?
"Like what?" She challenged. Miranda appeared flustered when questioned, as evidenced by her widened eyes and the absence of her velvety voice reaching Mia's ears. Mia, feeling overwhelmed by the absence of noise, decided to change the subject and asked Miranda, "Which band is your favorite?" However, Miranda responded with a raised eyebrow, questioning,
"Why?" Mia's simple response of,
"Because I'm interested." left Miranda momentarily speechless, her stunning blue eyes fixated on Mia's face, filled with bewilderment. Mia paused for a moment when she realized that Miranda didn't have a favorite band, or at least didn't want to answer. She pondered her next question, wanting to gather more information about Miranda without delving into anything too deep, at least not yet. Mia decided to ask a question that was more lighthearted in nature. "What's the skincare routine?" Mia couldn't help but notice Miranda's remarkably flawless and radiant skin, even though she might be older than Mia. Mia wasn't certain about the exact age difference between them. Miranda conceded, still appearing somewhat surprised by Mia's curiosity,
"Nothing out of the ordinary," her voice trailed off. She nervously twisted her fingers together, a telltale sign that there was more to the story than she was willing to reveal. Mia's eyes narrowed as she picked up on Miranda's discomfort, sensing a hidden secret that begged to be uncovered. Mia opted to ignore it and resume the awkward silence.  It seemed like hours before Miranda stood, a warmer glint present in her eye when she looked at Mia. "Do you... Do you want to join me for a drink?" The blonde spoke with an unusual softness, which made Mia further curious. Regardless, she nodded and murmured some form of approval for the idea. Miranda glided across the room with her usual grace, captivating Mia once more with the fluid motion of her hips. From a cabinet, she retrieved a bottle of red wine, hidden in a spot Mia would never have suspected. The wine had a rich red hue, embellished with intricate swirls of gold.
"Seems fancy. Are you sure you want to waste it on me?" Mia chuckled playfully. The blonde shook her head in a dismissive manner.
"Don't be silly, I receive an ample supply of it from a... colleague of mine." She took out two wine glasses, a sight that seemed amusing considering they were once again retrieved from a hidden spot.
"Do you always keep wine in your office?" Mia tried to hold back a laugh by biting her lip. Miranda hesitantly spoke,
"I enjoy a drink on tough days." Her mind appeared distant. Mia couldn't help but notice the intense stare of Miranda's blue eyes on her nervously chewed lip. Without missing a beat, Miranda shifted her attention back to the wine, pouring two glasses and handing one to Mia. She gratefully took the glass and nursed at the crimson liquid. Oh, it is nice. Mia thought privately, though she would never admit it. She expected nothing less from the regal woman. Miranda observed Mia's response to the wine attentively and expressed her satisfaction with a hum. "Isn't it delightful?" She purred, her voice becoming even silkier after just a small sip of her own beverage. Just as Mia was about to respond, her pocket started vibrating. The sudden interruption pulled her out of the moment, and she let out a frustrated growl upon discovering that her husband, Ethan, had sent her a text message. The text stated "Hello, Mia. How are you?" Mia thought it was another half-hearted message from Ethan, who probably just remembered to text her. She couldn't help but feel disappointed in her husband. She chuckled to herself, prompting a questioning click of the tongue from Miranda. "Who's that?"
"My husband." Mia let out a low growl as she reluctantly slid her phone into her pocket, deliberately ignoring the message she had just received. "Again, he's pretending to care," she muttered. Miranda's voice carried a hint of astonishment as she uttered the word
"Husband?" A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she delicately traced her finger along the edge of her wine glass, lost in her own thoughts.
Mia couldn't help but notice Miranda's surprise and commented, "You seem shocked." Miranda tilted her head, her captivating yet intimidating gaze fixed on Mia's face once again.
"I never imagined you as someone who would have a husband. Do you understand what I'm implying?" She suggested. Mia's face flushed immediately upon hearing the suggestion. She came to the realization, She thinks I'm a lesbian! However, upon further reflection, Mia entertained the possibility that maybe the assumption wasn't entirely incorrect. Before returning to the slightly intoxicated reality, Mia allowed her thoughts to wander. With a small smirk forming on her lips, she softly muttered, "I understand..." Miranda affirmed with a nod, raising the glass to her lips once more. Mia attempted to hide the flush on her face by taking a sip from her own glass, but she realized it was futile.
"How inappropriate of me... Indulging you in alcohol while you're in an unhappy marriage," Miranda cooed, swirling the wine with a small, devilish smile. Mia was taken aback by the situation, feeling a slight arousal. She carefully placed the wine glass on the desk and reclined in the chair, suddenly realizing that she had just sat down. She couldn't help but wonder how intoxicated she was, considering she had only consumed a single glass of wine.
Miranda clearly took notice of Mia's emptied glass and she reached for the bottle. "Refill?" She purred. Possibly against her better judgement, Mia nodded eagerly.
(Is there a more efficient way for me to post these? I really don't get Tumblr😭)
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angelic-writer · 1 year ago
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Whumpcember Day 11 - Infection
CW: Character death, Gore
Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed from the empty alleyway as Adam kept his gun close to him. There should be some food around here...
He moved some boxes around, trying to find some unopened cans. Hopefully, they haven't been spoiled by now. They have been without food for a while and the others were getting hungry and agitated. He volunteered to go alone despite Thatcher's objections.
He took slow, deep breaths as he approached a crate. Just as he was about to take a peek inside...
Something jumped out of the shadows, grabbing Adam's arm. He felt a jolt of pain before he pulled his gun out and shot it in the head. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a zombie. Wait a minute, that thing...
He looked at his arm. It was slowly dripping with blood. There was a noticeable bite mark on it, a telltale sign that he would be one of them soon. He hadn't realized he had started shaking, his chest tightening as he tried to breathe. He couldn't focus, his mouth moving to say the word "No." over and over again. He felt hot and cold. His heart pounded in his ears.
How was he gonna tell the others...?
How is he gonna tell Jonah? Cathy?
--------
There was a deathly silence at the table. Adam's sleeve was rolled down, showing his bite mark for all to see.
".......What do we do now?" Sarah asked.
Adam remained silent.
"Well... There are a few options... None of them is gonna end with Adam surviving..." Mark spoke.
"M-Maybe Adam won't turn into one of them. He's dealt with worse things before and he lived through it. He might make it through this one!" Cathy shakily said.
"I appreciate your optimism, Cathy, but you know what happens once you get bit. I'm sorry, but..." Thatcher sighed. "I'm afraid there's no saving him."
Jonah looked at Adam, not sure what to say to him. But he already knew what he was thinking. 'I'm so stupid! I should've gone with someone!'
Thatcher took out his gun and laid it on the table in front of Adam. He blankly stared at it. He hadn't said a word since the revelation.
"We're gonna be leaving soon, anyway. If you're gonna turn soon, we don't want anything to happen to us. This is the only way, unfortunately." Thatcher tried to keep his voice calm, but he couldn't ignore the aching pain in his heart. He had grown to care for these kids. They didn't deserve to be living this hell all alone. And now, Adam might become a walker or even worse... an Alternate.
I should've been the one to get bit. I should've been taking his place. But... What would Ruth think?
She wouldn't want him to become undead. She would want him to survive, to keep moving. So, this is what he has to do. And that includes leaving one of his own children behind to turn.
-------
As the days went by, Adam grew worse and worse. He had developed a high fever, he had started shivering and he was starting to cough up blood. He pulled the blanket closer to him in a futile effort to keep himself warm. The group had left hours ago, probably scouting out the area for another safehouse. He closed his eyes.
He hadn't touched the gun that Thatcher gave him. None of them wanted to put him out of his misery. Maybe they all had the same idea of false hope. That maybe Adam will be immune to this disease. Despite them losing the people they care about, they still stuck together. If it was any other group, they would've thrown him to the wolves. He could tell that they were hurting even when they tried to smile.
Jonah kept telling him stories about the high school shenanigans they would get into, Cathy kept giving him some of her favorite plushies... He tried to hold back the tears that were welling up.
He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to become one of them. The tough boy exterior that he had built up had finally crumbled, finally revealing just how scared and alone he truly was.
He never got the chance to apologize and make peace with Evelin. He will never be able to see Cathy curl up to him and act like a cat. He won't be able to hear Jonah's obnoxious voice again.
Mom... Dad... If you were here, you would tell me it'll be okay.
As his vision faded, he could see a life he could've lived. With his mother and father, living a peaceful life without any zombies to worry about.
Perhaps... In another life....
His heart slowed.
And slowed.
And slowed....
And became still.
-------
Thatcher's arm was shaking as he and the others stared the horde down. They didn't seem to show any sign of stopping. The group had run out of bullets and they were worn down from hunger. They had no idea a large group of them was waiting when they stopped to rest.
Cesar gripped the crowbar, covering his bleeding arm with one hand.
"Ces, let me take a lo-"
"I'm not bitten!! You saw what happened!!"
Fred and George shielded their sister as she sobbed, trying to make herself look small. Sarah's arm trembled as she stood in front of Evelin, trying to put on a brave front. Jonah kept pulling the trigger to blow the zombie's heads off even though the gun was empty.
Thatcher couldn't believe what was happening. In the span of ten minutes, they were surrounded. Sure, the group had dealt with the same thing before, but that was before they met Thatcher. Now, the same thing had happened again.
And Ruth wasn't there to help him this time.
I'm sorry, Weaver... I-I failed you... I failed all of them. I promised to protect them when you died. But there's just too many of them.
He wasn't brave like everyone was telling him. He was a coward. Always has and always will be. Nothing would change that.
Just as he was closing his eyes to embrace the end, he saw something in the horde. At first, it looked like any other zombie that was wearing a blank hoodie. Then, he caught the tuft of blonde hair and it immediately clicked.
Oh god.... Adam...
He broke down right then and there. He collapsed to his knees and began to sob. Someone was yelling at him to get up, but the words faded away. He should've put Adam out of his misery when he had the chance. He should've put a bullet between his eyes. He just couldn't stand everyone's hurt looks whenever they saw him so he left with them and never looked back.
Why am I always such a fucking failure?!
His thoughts were cut off by something grabbing at him. Snapping out of his trance, he tried to fight the zombie off, but it was too strong. There was screaming. The zombie was dangerously close to his neck.
It was pulled back. A pair of hands grabbed its jaw and pulled. Its head was pulled apart, spilling brain matter onto Thatcher. He stared at what just killed it.
Adam?
He only glanced at him for a moment before he turned to Cesar. He ran at him with frightening speed, causing him to scream and raise his crowbar. Mark tried to get in front of him, but Adam pushed him away, grabbed Cesar's wrist and snatched the crowbar out of his hand. He turned to the horde, let out an animalistic growl and ran.
The streets were filled with the angry screams of Adam Murray as he bashed their heads in. Despite turning into one of them, he still had his humanity. Despite his differences with them, he will not stand by and let his friends be killed.
Blood, bone and brains soared through the air as he swung at them with stunning accuracy and grace. He was like a samurai swinging his sword and slicing up his enemies. He danced in the blood flowing out like ribbons. One zombie grabbed him by the arm, but he threw it to the ground and smashed its head in like a pumpkin. He felt the rage and he welcomed it. Embraced it.
So this is what it is to be a zombie. They must be so confused right now. I'm one of them now so why am I turning on them when I should be focusing on their food?
Who am I kidding? They're dead. They don't have cognitive thoughts anymore! They don't care what they think!
As soon as it began, it was over. The horde that was so overwhelming before was now a big pile on the street. Adam Murray was the only one left. He stood over them, staring at the decayed bodies of what they once were. He turned to the other survivors who were too shocked to even move. Stepping over the bodies, he walked over to them.
Jonah jumped and tried to step back, but his back hit the barricade. His breathing quickened as the reanimated body of his friend slowly stepped toward him. He screwed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the pain of being bitten, but it never came.
He felt him stroke his face. He pried one of his eyes open to see what used to be Adam looking at him with... recognition? Curiosity?
And then, he spoke.
"Jonah....? I-Is that you...?"
Tears poured down Jonah's face as Adam held him close. Everyone else continued to stare, the shock never leaving their faces. He clearly looked like a zombie, but he still had the ability to speak, to fight, to recognize who Jonah is.
Is this another mutation of the virus? Did Adam become an alternate? All these questions still plagued their minds as Jonah started to cry and embrace him.
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yes-i-have-thoughts · 2 years ago
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can i hear the rundown of the faith tmc au :o
Yes, you may! (Note things are liable to change because I'm re-reading the books to make sure I've planned things properly, so don't take all of these as strictly canon unless they've already been written. Also, there will be spoilers.)
So FAITH is a pretty morbid comic book. Nobody knows who the artist is, their signature is unintelligible; the publishing house doesn't seem to exist, the story jumps around like we're reading through the eyes of someone with little to no attention span and the characters all seem to be based on kids that've gone missing. Some of them are pretty young, too: the age range for these characters is 6-15, with the oldest known character being 19. For whatever reason, some interesting person seems to be drawing inspiration from these missing person's cases and is putting the kids into sadistic storylines just to kill them gruesomely-and they're not shy about showing any gore, either.
Cesar comes across this comic pretty much by force. Some weirdo at a graduation party practically shoves it into his hands and then dares him to call on the comic's big bad, the Archangel. Cesar agrees to do it partially just to get rid of him and it ends up being the worst mistake of his young life.
Things happen, shit hits the fan and Mark is on the phone when Cesar goes missing. The good: he doesn't hear anything. The bad: the Archangel's attack dogs think that he did. They lure him into an abandoned shop under the false pretense of a job in an attempt to corner him and almost get him; but he gets away thanks to literally falling through the two realities into their own world.
Timeskip twelve years. We're now following Adam and two of his friends, Jonah and Evelin. Adam's got an interest in things of the morbid sort, and with his birthday coming up Jonah wants to surprise him with something.
He stumbles across a copy of FAITH sitting in a garbage can, reads it, freaks himself out and then brings it to show Adam at school the next day...Only for the pages to be completely blank. Where a story once was shown were now blank black pages.
Adam makes fun of him over it for the rest of the day, starting with "you read comic books?" to "do you seriously think this is real?". The chant to bring the archangel to you written on the last page (which was still intact, albeit fading fast: maybe Jonah skipped a few pages on the first reading?) didn't convince him, instead he half-jokingly dared Jonah to summon him.
Jonah followed through on the dare out of spite. This turned out to be a bad idea. He called Adam in a panic, begging him to come over; and after more teasing and jeering Adam agreed to spend the night until his paranoia went away.
Except when he shows up to Jonah's house, he's not there. His bike is, but searching the house turns up nothing but signs of a fight.
A week later at school, a kid who looks suspiciously like Jonah shows up in another copy of FAITH. Adam wants to shake it off--FAITH isn't real, after all. It's just the brainchild some sick fuck who's a little too interested in gore.
That's all it is...Right? The Archangel isn't real. The angel's not real.
The angel's not real...But he refers to Jonah by name at the end of the last issue featuring him.
The Archangel's not real. That kid's name just happens to be Jonah. There's no way he actually manipulated his friend into being dragged to Hell and watched him only survive by the skin of his teeth.
Right?
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labgrown · 2 years ago
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𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍.
— BASICS! ♡
NAME: Mango
PRONOUNS: she/her
ZODIAC SIGN: taurus
TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single
— THREE FACTS! ♡
re7 is why I started this blog. it's all eveline's fault.
I only started playing RE very recently. Prior to this year I did not have a console really.
I did some googling around about plant toxins and other things for inspiration. I discovered this snail that sometimes gets this worm parasite and turns snails into freaky 'disco' snail zombies and it gave me the inspo for chelsea's abilities.
— EXPERIENCE! ♡
PLATFORMS USED: nowadays tumblr & discord.
PLOTTING / WINGING IT / MEMES: All of it. I am used to winging it, not so good at plotting but still open to throwing ideas. Memes are always welcome and feel free to go through my tag anytime to send in stuff. :)
— MUSE PREFERENCE! ♡
GENDER: I tend to lean male for my muses but majority of muses on here are female. :)
MULTI OR SINGLE MUSE: I tend to gravitate towards making single muse blogs as they are easier to run but with these muses I didn't wanna make a bunch of singles. I felt they were fit best on a multi.
LEAST FAVOURITE FACECLAIM(S): idk, I used to have a few. but no one specific really comes to mind rn.
— FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡
FLUFF: fluff is nice, I love seeing the girls bond with people and having family dynamics and whatnot, but I do sometimes get tired of it and want something horror oriented.
ANGST: angst is fine and can be fun but it has to be approached a certain way. I don't like angst just because, there has to be a point. If it suits my character in some way then angst will ensure. (case in point, chelsea is a good muse for angst.)
SMUT: obviously no smut with the main muses as they are underaged. I have some adult guest muses however and shipping could happen.
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wanderingaroundwithmysoul · 10 months ago
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Rain gave herself another mental reminder to put off asking questions about Eveline's past. The vague replies and non-answers were a clear sign she didn't want to talk, and Rain knew that if she accidentally made this girl cry or put her foot in her mouth, things would probably continue to go downhill.
She snorted in amusement at Eveline's response to her question. "Leavin' the weight of the decision on my shoulders, eh? Fine." Rain bit the inside of her cheek in thought. She hadn't been in this area for very long, so she still wasn't too familiar with all that it had to offer.
As she stopped at a red light, she let her dark eyes roam over the surrounding buildings. This ain't too far from that lil' hole-in-the-wall diner I ate at the other day, she mused. Food was decent. Guess I can bring the kid there.
So with that, Rain changed direction, eventually pulling up to the small restaurant and killing the engine. She opened her car door. "Alright, c'mon. Time to eat."
@mould-girl
Eveline wandered she'd survived ethan killing her she felt horrible for what she did to the baker family...... prehaps she could start a new life
@mould-girl
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Following the destruction of Raccoon City and Rain's subsequent decision to leave Umbrella over a decade ago, she had been bouncing between multiple private military companies and counterterrorism organizations.
At the moment, she was in between jobs and spending her Saturday night getting some fresh air. There was a nice scenic overlook of the city Rain was staying in that she happened across. She seated herself on the lone bench and tried to relax...
...Until she heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps from somewhere behind her. Her first thought was that she was probably either gonna need to deck someone or make conversation, neither of which she was in the mood for. She straightened up, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of the noise.
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rhymingpredictions · 3 years ago
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đŸŽȘ   𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔  𝒐𝒇  𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆  :  𝒅𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒔  𝒂𝒏𝒅  𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒔  𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔
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Tagged by: None
Tagging: @fallesto @wanderingwolfwitcher @toussainttwins @stillwater-butcher @masakratragedia @fckingbard @fvk-destiny @caelmewedd​
Repost! No reblog!
Bold what applies!
đ™±đ™°đšđ™±đ™°đšđ™žđ™°đ™œ   »   toothy  grins,  stories  around  the  campfire,  clothes  covered  in  pet  hair, hot  temper,  old  jeans,  heartbeat  in  head,  potatoes  and  steak,  beaded  jewelry,  bruises  like  galaxies,  mementos,  backpack  stuffed  full,  craigslist  furniture,  spontaneous  road  trips,  air  ripped  from  lungs
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đ™Čđ™»đ™Žđšđ™žđ™Č   »   list  of  wishes,  biting  their  tongue,  band-aids  and  neosporin,  shoulder  to  cry  on,  morning  sun,  necklaces,  trial  and  error,  homemade  quilts,  formal  clothing,  astrology  fan, messages  in  bottles,  pleated  braids,  speaking  up  for  friends,  feathers, motivational  quotes,  vivid  dreams
𝙳𝚁𝚄𝙾𝙳   »   bird  watching,  shy  kid,  wind  chimes,  trying  to  whistle,  summer  camp,  apple  orchards,  lost  in  their  head,  glow-in-the-dark  stars  on  the  ceiling,  hoodies,  thrift shopping,  saving  worms  off  the  sidewalk,  pig  latin, bare  feet,  thunderstorms,  numb  fingers,  braided  hair,  naming  potted  plants
đ™”đ™žđ™¶đ™·đšƒđ™Žđš   »   goose  bumps,  leather  jackets,  adventure,  chewing  nails, cares  deeply  but  can’t  show  it,  bronze  locks,  no  sleep, taste  of  iron,  netflix  binges,  never  forgets,  combat  boots,  stories  behind  scars,  table  for  one,  official  soundtracks,  sore  calves,  trusts  themselves  the  most
đ™Œđ™Ÿđ™œđ™ș   »   always  trying  to  be  better,  wanderlust,  meditation,  sweat  pants,  old   photographs,  yoga,  sleeping  in  hammocks,  nostalgia,  minimalist  design,  breath  of  fresh  air,  baby  animals,  volunteering,  perfectionist,  doesn’t  care  about  fashion,  healthy  snacks,  noticing  the  little  things
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đšđ™°đ™œđ™¶đ™Žđš   »   herbal  tea,  smell  of  rain,  blinking  away  tears,   camping  trips,  collecting  bones,  swiss  army  knives,  first  impressions,  anxious  thoughts,  bobby  pins,  burnt  marshmallows,  too  competitive,  clothes  lines,  messenger  bags,  holding  grudges,  gets  along  better  with  animals  than  people
đšđ™Ÿđ™¶đš„đ™Ž   »   flirtatious  sarcasm,  candid  photos,  lost  phone  chargers, adrenaline  rush, picking  dirt  out  from  beneath  their  nails,  social  chameleon,  clashing  clothes,  self-deprecating  jokes,  claw  machines, sits  in  chairs  wrong,  smudged  eyeliner,  has  too  many  sunglasses,  eats  nothing  or  everything
đš‚đ™Ÿđšđ™Č𝙮𝚁𝙮𝚁   »   infectious  laugh,  family  trees,  shivers  down  their  spine,  lipstick  and  roses,  mood  swings,  clumsy,  believing  in  destiny,  high  expectations, sleeping  in  darkness,  collection  of  nail  polish,  passionate,  good  grades  but  never  studies,  poetry  books,  blowing  kisses,  not  knowing  their  own  strength
đš†đ™°đšđ™»đ™Ÿđ™Čđ™ș   »   knowing  everyone’s  secrets,  backpack  covered  in  pins,  envy,  being  in  walmart  late  at  night,  earl  grey,  selective  memory,  conspiracy  theories  and  cryptids,  keysmashing,  need  to  know  basis,  can’t  cook,  bags  under  eyes,  experimental  art,  flickering  bulbs,  black  clothing  all  year  long
𝚆𝙾𝚉𝙰𝚁𝙳   »   piles  of  textbooks,  cat  in  lap,  keeping  a  diary,  indecisions,  scented  candles,  studying  alone  in  a  cafĂ©,  lingering  touches,  museum  dates,  unanswered  questions,  taking  on  too  much  responsibility,  collections,  chalk  dust,  comfy  robes,  unnecessary  apologies,  coming  home  after  a  long  day
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emma-nation · 3 years ago
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Follow Me Through The Dark (Cassandra Dimitrescu x OC AU) - Chapter 4
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Summary: After Mother Miranda's death, Cassandra Dimitrescu has been dealing with some unpleasant changes. When a stranger with a mysterious past arrives in the castle, she will realize her problems are only getting started.
Pairing: Cassandra Dimitrescu x f!OC
Genre: Between T and M
(Trigger warning: for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)
Notes:
- English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes.
- Your likes and comments are always appreciated!
Castle Dimitrescu, Cassandra's Bedroom - November, 2021
Life had improved greatly for the Dimitrescu sisters now they could spend a considerable amount of time exposed even to minor temperatures. They didn't know for how long their bodies would be able to handle it yet, but some signs always gave them a hint of when it was too much.
When Cassandra woke up that morning, her body was starting to enter a dangerous stage. She was shivering, her skin was beginning to acquire a grey tone, her throat was sore and dry. Anytime she tried to breathe, her chest hurt and she'd start coughing non-stop.
Her naked body reminded herself of the previous night. She didn't know how that even started. In a second, she was chasing Gabriela around her room, while she decided what would be the most painful manner to kill her. Out of nowhere, they started making out. Which lead them to a nasty, kinky and dirty night of sex.
Obviously the girl was no longer there. She collected what was left of her maid uniform and left in the middle of the night. Not before leaving the windows wide open.
"That bitch! She tried to kill me!"
It was only after an extremely hot bath and after stealing another blood bag from Bela's room, that she finally recovered. She took a deep breath, recomposed herself and followed to the dinning room. She had to act normally in front of her family. Nobody should find out what happened.
Meanwhile, Cassandra started to plan the perfect manner to give Gabriela the lesson she deserved. And this time she'd definitely be punished with a lot more than a hard slap in the ass.
"I can't believe you brought this bird to breakfast," Daniela complained once she appeared in the dinning room with her new pet sitting on her shoulder. "It's gross!"
"Her name's Eveline," she told, feeding the raven a small portion of fruits. "And she's more well-behaved than you are."
"Daughters," Lady Dimitrescu requested their attention. "Can we avoid unnecessary arguments right in the first hours of morning? We need to discuss about the festival. House Dimitrescu will be providing wine to be tasted and sold."
The three sisters exchanged a suspicious glance.
"And who's going to be responsible for the stall, mother?" Bela asked.
"The three of you, of course."
"What?" Daniela complained. "But I was planning to have some fun!"
"You will, Daniela. After you help your sisters, of course."
"Bela should do it herself," Cassandra suggested. "After all she's friends with the villagers.
"Very funny," Bela argued. "You're not leaving me alone with this! We either work together or we don't even attend at all."
"I never gave you this option, Bela," Lady Dimitrescu had that look on her face. The look she did when she was about to scold them. "The three of you. And if I discover you hired someone to get away with your responsibilities, I'll be very disappointed."
That was going to suck. Cassandra intended to spend the rest of her day torturing, hurting and possibly murdering a certain maid. No. First she needed evidence. She needed to prove she was a BSAA agent. Now, she was even more sure of her theory.
The door opened and Gabriela walked through it, followed by two other maids. Cassandra pretended she hadn't even noticed. She had to show indifference and disdain. She had to let her know how much she despised her and what happened between them.
Everything was going just fine. She drank her tea, ate some pastry, pretended to be focused on her mother's instructions about the festival... but no one lived in peace having an younger sister like Daniela.
"OH MY GOD!" Daniela shouted when Gabriela was taking her plate. "Is that a hickey on your neck?!"
And suddenly everyone in the room was looking at her. Bela, Daniela, Lady Dimitrescu and even the other servants. There was a brief moment of complete silence before Gabriela answered.
"No!" She let out a small, embarrassed giggle. "Surprisingly as it seems, Ms. Daniela, I fell down while I was cleaning a shelf. I'm so clumsy."
Then she excused herself and left after the other maids.
"Oh. A shelf..." Bela spoke, while sipping on her tea. "In Cassandra's bedroom."
Daniela burst into laughs.
"It didn't happen, okay?!" Cassandra punched the table. "I have no problems to admit when I make a mistake. Mother they're smearing me!"
"Cassandra! Recompose yourself," Lady Dimitrescu scolded. "You two, focus. There will be foreigners in the festival. Sell them wine, attract them to the castle. Or we'll starving for another month."
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Castle Dimitrescu, Corridors - November, 2021
When I woke up in the morning, my body was still sore and exhausted. I had about five seconds of inner peace before my brain, and the fragrance still lingering on my skin, reminded me about the events of the previous night.
I sat down, examining my body and the bruises, left all over my skin as an evidence to remind me of my misconduct, my crime. I remembered Cassandra being on top of me, her firm touches, her intense kisses, the manner she was able to drive me to ecstasy like no one else had done before.
"Oh shit," from all the bad decisions I had ever made, that should be the worst. "Oh shit. Oh shit!"
I went straight to the shower, as if the water could wash all those impure memories away.
Once I left, I looked myself in the mirror and decided to face it. I had sex with C. And it was good. Life ruiningly good. Because now she'd either fire me or kill me. And it was only my fault, I shouldn't have kissed her.
Or was she the one to kiss me first? I wasn't sure.
I inhaled deeply in thought. Maybe I could use that night in my advantage. I could blackmail her, now her family's secrets were revealed.
For my luck, she barely looked at me during breakfast. I was really hoping for that. If we started to exchange looks and someone connected it to the hickey on my neck, it would be obvious.
And it would be too weird. Way too weird! What if she suddenly decided to develop a crush on me or something? Not that Cassandra seemed to be the type who developed crushes, but still. No. No way.
Daniela Dimitrescu wouldn't miss a single detail. When she finally noticed that small ornament on my neck, she had to let everyone know. Even the Countess. Nobody looked at me, instead they looked at Cassandra. It was probably something that happened often with maids who spent some considerable amount of time around her.
I invented a lie and left as soon as I could to proceed with my next tasks. There were some sections of the castle that needed to have the floor mopped. Sections that were far, far away from that doomed bedroom.
I was completely alone. The corridors were completely silent, empty and peaceful. I started to whistle a song while doing my job, when a pair of hands grabbed me, dragged me to inside a secret passage and pinned me against the wall.
"Whoa, I never thought you'd come back for another round."
The situation was embarrassing. For both of us. I decided to handle it with some humor. Maybe it would make it less strange than it already was.
"But I did," Cassandra snarled in my ear. But this time, she didn't sound like she was aroused. She was enraged. "What?! Did you think you could kill me that easily? Surprise, bitch! You're gonna have to try harder next time."
"Kill you? What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb!"
When she pulled a sickle from behind her back, my brain started to recap every detail from that wicked night, trying to find out where I had messed it up so badly. What did she expect? She expected me to be by her side to cuddle in the morning?
And then, I remembered. The windows. I never closed them.
"Oh my god! The heating system... the windows... the cold is your weakness. I-I didn't know!"
"A few months back and I'd be dead. Your little agency has failed to inform you we've gotten stronger. And it's a shame you'll never come back to tell them."
Agency? The cold had really affected her senses. I didn't understand a single word she was saying.
"I didn't know, okay?" I reaffirmed. I knew it was useless. "Do you want an apology?"
"No!" Cassandra placed the sickle against my neck. "I want you to die. I want to drink every single drop of your blood. I... I... I never want to see you again. Or listen to this cocky accent of yours. I hate you!"
She clearly wouldn't believe I had no intentions of killing her. She would never forgive me for my mistake.
I decided to use the bait she had offered me in my favor, to save my own life.
"Go ahead. Kill me. But they'll come searching for me. They already know, Cassandra. They already know about your family. About the things that happen inside this castle. Kill me and it's the end, for all of you."
"I knew it..."
"But if you let me live, I can cut you some slack. I can pretend I didn't see anything wrong. I can pretend all the stories are false."
For the first time, I actually saw a hint of fear in her eyes. Not for her own life, but for her family. Whatever this Agency was, they had potential to destroy them and it scared her more than anything.
"You've got a deal," she said. "But stay out of my way. I don't want you to talk to me, or my sisters and even my mother. Just pretend to do your job until you're ready to go."
"CASSANDRA!" Lady Dimitrescu's voice echoed through all the castle. "IN MY OFFICE! RIGHT NOW!"
C finally set me free. She gave me one last look. One that didn't seem to be enraged anymore. Instead, she looked... hurt?
And then I felt a hint of remorse.
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Castle Dimitrescu, Cassandra's Bedroom - November, 2021
In the following years after her transformation, Cassandra realized something. Not only she was the middle child stereotype, but also that unplanned and unexpected child. From Lady Dimitrescu files she once stole, she discovered there was supposed to have been another girl. One that was unfit for the transformation.
Cassandra then realized she should have been her replacement. Her mother had no other reasons to pick her. Bela was the perfect child. Gifted, smart, the daughter Alcina never managed to have biologically. Daniela was her baby. The one who made her laugh. The one who got away with everything. The one she protected.
The middle daughter never felt appreciated enough. Her mother rarely complimented her for anything. She never recognized her achievements. She was always seen as the irresponsible, the poorly mannered, the untalented.
"What in this world has happened in this bedroom?!" Lady Dimitrescu wanted to know. "It looks like a hurricane passed through this place."
What was her mother doing in her bedroom anyways? She knew the area wasn't safe to be explored. Unexpected things could always be found there. A maid probably had stolen one of her precious lipsticks again.
"I..." Cassandra ran a hand through her brunette hair. "I was testing something new. With my swarm."
"There were valuable artifacts here, daughter!"
"So what? It's not like we can't replace them."
"The servants will have the day out," Lady Dimitrescu announced before leaving the chambers. "Hurry, clean up this mess. I need you to be with your sisters in the Festival."
Cassandra rolled her eyes and punched the wall as soon as the woman left. She didn't know why she still followed her orders. She didn't know why she still expected her approval. She wasn't her real mother. Her real mother had abandoned her decades ago, when she succumbed to a contagious and highly lethal infection. As well as her father and younger brother.
She was the only survivor of her family, Alcina told. What made her exactly like...
"Ughhhh," among the trash she collected from the floor, Cassandra found Gabriela's bra. It was white and lacy. She didn't even notice those small details before, while they were devouring each other's bodies.
She was going to stuff it into the plastic bag, along with the rest of the garbage but instead, she decided to keep it. A small trophy, to remind herself of the victory that would be when she was finally able to rip off the girl's heart out from her chest.
Working for BSAA or not, she had to find a way to defeat her. Nobody tried to kill her and lived. No one.
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Castle Dimitrescu, Office - November, 2021
"Gabriela, papa wants to talk to you in his bedroom. In private."
"Ms. Rodriguez, the principal would like to see you. Right now."
"Hey Gabs, Hank is calling for ya. He's furious, mate."
Those were the lines that returned to my memories when Mrs. Petrova told me Lady Dimitrescu wanted to see me in her office. Alone. None of good ever came from those lines. They were always linked to traumatic events that either damaged me forever, or sent me to the hospital.
Obviously, Cassandra told her I was from 'The Agency' and they'd get rid of me. Easy as that.
I walked slowly, appreciating each one of my last seconds alive. I had no one to miss me back home. Samuel and his wife, maybe. But deep down, they always expected this moment would come before I even reached my thirties. At least I wasn't shot. Or died from an overdose.
There was also Hank. I don't know why I even remembered him in that moment, but that made my chest tighten a little. The last time I saw him, he had sent me to the hospital after I refused to break my four years of soberness. He probably wouldn't miss me. He'd probably celebrate my death with his gang.
I knocked at the door and announced myself.
"Oh, Ms. Rodriguez," Lady Dimitrescu spoke, as she opened the door, "come on in".
I was almost like an insect compared to that woman. She could smash me with her huge hands if she wanted to. Or she could simply step on me. Not in a kinky manner. But she wouldn't even have to use her claws.
"Anything I can help you with, my lady?"
"Actually, there is..."
She looked around, making sure no one would be listening to our conversation. She didn't look angry, or even disappointed. But psychopaths were good hiding their emotions, right?
"Will you be attending the Autumn Festival along with the other maids?" Alcina asked. I finally relaxed. If she was planning to kill me, that would be the last thing she'd ask.
"I don't think so," I told. Most of the other maids hated me. And Cassandra would be there too. "If you need me, I'll be here."
"No, I need you to be there. I need someone to keep an eye on my daughters for me and you're the most fit for this job."
"M-Me?"
"Yes. You've been here for less than a week. You haven't had time to get close to any of them yet. Assuming you were..." she cleared her throat, "really cleaning shelves yesterday."
"I was," I lied. "So far, I've only interacted with Ms. Cassandra. And in a professional manner exclusively. She gives me instructions and I follow them."
Very professional, I thought. Like when she ordered me to get down on my knees and...
"Good," Lady Dimitrescu clapped her hands, pulling me out from that naughty memory. "I know you won't disappoint me."
I was about to leave when she opened one of her drawers and handed me some money. A lot more than I even expected to receive.
"Your weekly payment. And an extra, for this little task of ours. Let's keep it a secret, okay? Only between us."
"Only between us, my lady."
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Autumn Festival, Village - November, 2021
"It has been two hours and we haven't had a single buyer!" Bela complained.
"You complained four times already," Cassandra was so bored she started to count. "Complaints won't get us anywhere."
"And neither will this ugly scowl of yours. You're scaring people away with this face."
"Go ahead, Miss Sunshine. If we depend on your social skills, we're fucked."
Cassandra stood up from the chair she was sitting. Daniela was nowhere to be seen. She had left the stall for a long time now. They told her to socialize around the festival and lure the costumers to their business.
"I doubt she's coming back!" She angered. "Mother is going to be so pissed."
Bela didn't answer. Her mind was somewhere else. She was probably planning to go back earlier to United States and get away with the punishment her sisters would receive.
"So," the blonde finally spoke, "will you tell me the reason you're so moody today or I'll have to guess?"
"She tried to kill me," Cassandra decided to let it out. It would be good to share the secret with someone of her trust. Of course, she'd omit some major details. "Gabriela. She broke into my bedroom and opened the windows while I was asleep."
"This is grave, Cassandra. You should've told mother."
"I was planning to. I confronted her this morning and she threatened me. If she gets killed, the BSAA is coming for us."
"Wait," Bela's eyes went wide in shock. "Did she confirm your suspicions?"
"Kind of," Cassandra told. "You should've ran a background check before hiring her. That would've been a good idea."
"We can do it now. We need to get information about her. It'll give us some advantage."
Together they started to look for Gabriela's name on their phones. They searched every social media, every searching tool. Nothing. There were thousands of 'Gabriela Rodriguez' women around the world, but none of them was their servant. She didn't lie when she said she was a nobody.
"Even her name must be fake!"
"Hey sisters," Daniela finally returned from her tour around every attraction of the festival. "Look who I found!"
The two older sisters raised their eyes, only to see the woman they were searching right in front of them. Cassandra clenched her fists, ready to snap at her. Bela held her, giving her a signal they should act cautiously.
"Your mother asked me to help," Gabriela spoke, already joining them behind the stall. "She told me you could use another hand."
"She's lying!" Cassandra muttered between her teeth to Bela.
"I know," she whispered back. "But let's take the opportunity to get to know our enemy. She knows our weakness, so we need to find hers."
Bela turned around, faking a smile. She was a terrible liar. Maybe because she never lied. The eldest Dimitrescu sister always told the truth, no matter what.
"Okay! Do you have any experience selling? Because as you can see, we're terrible."
"Don't worry, Ms. Bela. I've worked at countless stores before."
In only one hour, Gabriela sold more wine than even Lady Dimitrescu herself would. She attracted costumers by serving free samples of their best and most expensive bottles, even inventing special names and false stories behind each one of them. Daniela was learning her tricks successfully.
"She's a con artist," Cassandra said, more to herself than to her sisters.
"Uhh..." Bela was also impressed. "Pardon my intrusion but, why did you get fired from all the stores you worked previously? You're amazing."
"Not a problem, Ms. Bela. I was either caught stealing or I was too high on drugs to attend my work shift."
"Mother will be so pleased to hear that. Look the kind of person you hired, Bela. Congratulations."
"I've no problem with who I used to be, Ms. Cassandra. For your information, I've been clean for four years now. From drugs and from stealing too."
She extended her arm and lifted her jacket's sleeve, exhibiting a bracelet. Each one of the small pendants showed one of her achievements from being clean from drugs.
"I tried to steal a car out of frustration, five months ago, but I failed. Which is a funny thing, because somehow it was what brought me here."
Bela quickly shot Cassandra a glance.
"I admire your honesty," she told their servant. "Anybody else would've lied and hidden all this information from us."
"As you can see, I'm many things," Gabriela also glanced at Cassandra, "but I'm not a liar. And I'm good keeping secrets too."
"She knows we're vampires," Daniela shouted from where she was standing. If there was still a single soul in the festival that wasn't aware of their nature, they just found out in that moment.
"Oh, and how did you find out?" Bela asked.
"My... uh... he's kind of my adoptive father, he's a Police Chief. He received a report from some tourists last Summer. They escaped your castle. Obviously, nobody believed it and it was discarded. He knew I'd be interested and then he showed me."
"And this is the reason you came here in first place?"
She told Bela the same story about being the only survivor from the village in Spain. When she finished, Daniela was comforting her and Bela was very convinced of her story.
"I'm sorry, Cassandra," she said when the two of them were alone again. "I don't know what you think you heard but, you're wrong about her. I can feel that. She's being completely honest to us."
"Your sudden sympathy for humans is going to get us killed someday."
Cassandra stood up and left, headed to Elena's stall. At least that humanthing would provide her booze and listen to all her insults in silence.
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Autumn Festival, Village - November, 2021
To assure my job in the castle - as well as my survival and the information I could obtain - I figured out I should try a different approach. I had to earn the Dimitrescu family's trust. I wasn't there to hurt them, or to cause them any harm, I just wanted answers and a chance to expose what truly happened to my people.
"And you have no links to the BSAA?"
It was already night when we decided to take a break. I had enough time to earn Bela's trust to the point she revealed me what happened to Mother Miranda and the BSAA - the Agency who attempted to blow up the village and all its creatures.
"They call us Bio-Weapons!" Daniela informed me.
"Oh no," I told her, sipping on a bottle of beer. "I didn't have any idea of what this whole Agency thing was. When I said 'they' were coming after me, I meant the London Police."
I laughed at my own lie. The London Police wouldn't be doing any efforts to save me. Even if Samuel ordered them.
"I was just trying to save my ass after I forgot to close the windows in Cassandra's bedroom. She didn't believe me when I told her I didn't do it on purpose. I didn't even know about your weakness"
"I'm sorry about that," Bela sighed. "Cassandra can be a little complicated sometimes. She's gotten worse now I moved away. She thinks I abandoned her and destroyed our family."
"It's not your fault. Now you're free from Miranda and all that evil, don't blame yourself for starting a new life and chasing your happiness. I wish I could do that."
"But you are free."
"Not totally," I replied. "I don't think I'll ever be. While I don't figure out the whole truth, there will always be this shadow haunting me."
I went to one of the food stalls and bought something to eat. Then I looked around, searching for some entertainment. I picked one of the games, one where I was suppose to shoot the empty cans to earn a prize.
A child game. But I wasn't allowed to be a child for too long. As soon as I left that village in Spain, my childhood and my innocence were taken away from me. I had to become something else. Something Samuel's wife called a... survivor.
I aimed and shot, hitting the first can.
"Whoa," I rolled my eyes when I recognized the voice by my side. For someone who didn't want to see me anymore, Cassandra was standing way too close. "I'm impressed. Where did you learn to shoot like this? In the Agency?"
"Actually, no," I shot again and hit another can. "It's the opposite. I learned it on the streets, stealing luxury cars."
Cassandra handed the man behind the stall a bill. She grabbed the second shotgun available. She clearly wanted a competition.
"I'm the best hunter in the area. I've hunted all kinds of beasts."
"Oh really?!" I shot another can precisely.
"See it for yourself," Cassandra shot three cans in a row, to tie our score.
We were in this childish and stupid competition for a long time. Once the empty cans were over, we proceeded to collect empty bottles. We took them to the middle of the forest, where we could continue with our game without putting any humans in risk. We were not interested in any of the prizes, we just wanted to prove each other who was the best shooter. The first one to miss a target would lose.
"I need to tell you something," I was getting tired, I needed to distracted her. "When I told you 'they would be coming for me' this morning, I wasn't talking about this whole BSAA thing your sister told me. I just wanted you to let me live."
"Why am I not surprised? Maybe because lying is what you do best."
"I mean it, Cassandra. I didn't know you and your sisters were weak to the cold to the point it could kill you. In fact, I'm now wondering if this BSAA Agency was the one to destroy the habitants of my village, instead of working on a cure for them."
"There's no cure. Once you're infected, you're doomed to be a monster. Forever."
Nothing would stop that woman. She was deadly focused on proving me she was indeed the best hunter in the area. I was bored and the alcohol was already speaking for me. I had to try something else. Something bolder. A manner to poke another wound that could possibly bother the Dimitrescu sister.
"By the way, I didn't lie last night. I really enjoyed that."
While she didn't blush, I could tell she was a little bit flustered for a second.
"Well, I didn't. It sucked. Every second of it."
"We both know it's not true. I don't remember hearing a single complaint."
"I faked."
"All the three times?"
"I'm a good actress."
"I'm down for a fourth round."
And she finally missed it. The bullet didn't even approach its target, going straight into a branch. Cassandra dropped the shotgun and grabbed me by the neck, pressing me against a tree.
"What the hell are you planning to do?"
"Admit it," I grinned mischievously. "You weren't faking it."
She brushed her lips against my earlobe, before speaking:
"No."
Without any hesitations, I placed my hand on the back of her neck, bringing her lips directly to mine. I explored every inch of that mouth with my tongue, while my legs wrapped tightly around her waist. I descended my mouth to her neck, placing soft and tender kisses until she couldn't resist.
"Was that a low and muffled moan I heard?" I teased.
"You..." Cassandra grasped my breast tightly. "You're the devil, you know that?"
"Sort of."
A crackling noise, followed by an intense buzzing sound interrupted our little moment. It seemed like a huge swarm of bees was approaching.
"What is that?" I asked.
"I don't know," the Dimitrescu woman let me go. "Probably Bela and Daniela messing up with me."
"Wait... why?"
She got in a fighting position, examining all of her surroundings. Suddenly a small group of blowflies started to leave her body and fly around the area, searching for the source of the noise.
"C-Can you turn into flies?" I asked in disbelief.
"Surprised, babe?!" She looked at me and smirked. "There's a lot you don't know about me yet."
Now I could finally understand the flies after me. She had been spying on me since I arrived in the castle.
"You've been spying on me! This is so not fair! And dirty... and perverted!"
"Not if there isn't anything wrong to be seen. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time I'd see you naked."
"Well, it seems like you enjoyed the view. After all you're always coming back for more."
"Yeah... maybe you're not so bad. Is that what you wanted to hear? You have a fine ass!"
I was about to respond when C used her toned arm to stop me. Her flies, her senses or even her advanced hearing were detecting something I wasn't able to. She pulled a sickle from under her dress.
"What..." I attempted to ask.
"Shhhhh..." she silenced me with her hand.
In a blink, a huge swarm of bees came in our direction. Cassandra quickly shaped into her own swarm of blowflies to avoid getting harmed. I hid myself behind a bush, knowing it wouldn't take too long before I was discovered.
I observed as the swarms shaped into three humanoid figures. They were not like Cassandra or her sisters. They had no human form. They were simply... monsters.
"Is that a competition?" C shaped back into her human form. "Good. It has been a long time I've been searching for a good match."
They all advanced in her direction at the same time. She rolled to her left, deflecting the attack. The creatures seemed to be faster, or maybe she was outnumbered. As they turned into bees again, they were able to inflict Cassandra some damage.
"Hey!" I jumped from behind the bushes. "Come and get me, your freaks."
"What the fuck are you doing?!" C yelled. "I'm immortal, your dumbass!"
The creatures started to chase me. Obviously, I was no match for them, even when they had to turn back into their humanoid form. One of them punched me hard on the temple, sending me flying.
As I landed on the floor, I hit my head against a rock. A metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I tried to call out for help.
I heard Cassandra footsteps approaching the scene. My blurred vision captured some moments of her fight against the creatures. With some lethal and bloody moves with her sickle, like a flawless deadly dance, she managed to scare them away.
"Well well..." she stopped in front of me, poking me with her boot. "What am I going to do about you?"
"H-Help... me..." I tried to mumble, but I was too weak, too confused.
She kneeled down by my side, holding my face and examining my head injury. Then, she softly caressed my cheek.
"I'm sorry, babe," Cassandra smiled, stood up and turned around to leave. "You shouldn't have left the windows opened last night.
----------
Note: If you haven't played Resident Evil 6, Google 'Gnezdo'. Those were the creatures that attacked them in the forest.
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rhymingpredictions · 6 years ago
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spooky muse aesthetics
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bloodied  knuckles ,     tear  strained  cheeks ,     rust ,     a   busted  lip ,     claws ,     fangs ,     a  bloody  nose ,     chattering  teeth ,     a  dark  space  underneath   the   bed ,     scratching  noises  on  a  wall ,    creaking  metal ,   fog ,     dancing  under  moonlight ,     blood  dripping  lips ,     heavy  breathing  in  the  dark ,     a   feeling  of  unexplained  dread ,     a  figure  in  a  dark  corner ,     dirty  peeling  wallpaper ,     a  bloody  handprint  on  the  wall ,     sobbing  in  the  dark ,     bite  marks  on  the  skin ,    eerie   whispers , a   hood   covering   a   stranger’s   eyes ,     the  growl  of  a  hidden  animal ,   the   sound  of  a  blade  being  sharpened ,   a  deep   /   dark  forest ,     walking   on  the  streets  alone  at  night ,   a   cobweb - filled ,  abandoned  building ,    eyes  darting  in  paranoia ,    a   heavy  beating  pulse ,     the   feeling  of  being  trapped ,     struggling  to  get  out  a  scream ,   boards  covering  broken  windows ,  a  quiet  graveyard,  a gas station in the middle of nowhere ,     a  road  that  never  ends ,    heavy  fog  rolling  in ,     the  scent  of  blood  in  the  air ,     eerie  old  photographs ,    walking  along  traintracks at  night ,    a  chill  going  up  the  spine ,    gathering  crows ,   a  dusty ,   dimly  lit  study ,   mist    over  a  deserted  cobblestone  street ,      ghost  towns ,     shadows around a campfire ,     the sound of chanting ,     church bells tolling ,     an orange harvest moon ,      a broken down carnival ,     a dirty stuffed animal abandoned ,     wiping bloody hands on fabric ,     nightmares ,     waking up in a panic ,     a power outage ,     heavy lightning storms ,    a secret trap door ,     the feeling of being watched ,  fear from trauma ,     a ouija board set out on a table ,    an eerie doll ,     a scream of anguish    &    pain ,     withered  plants ,   a  room  that’s  been  forgotten    &      gathered  dust ,     owl  eyes  in  the  dark ,     curled ,     dead   tree   branches ,   a   ritual  altar ,  flickering  candles ,   a   lantern    held    up   in   the  dark ,     fear  of  being  followed ,      creaking  floorboards ,     repressed ,    horrible  memories ,      clenched  teeth ,     soft ,  echoing   piano  keys ,    an  old  book  covered  in  dust ,    many  pairs  of  glaring  eyes ,     stumbling  in  pitch  black  darkness,     being   stranded  in  the   middle   of   nowhere ,      tarot   cards   on   a   table ,     a   trail    of   blood .
tagged by @fallesto​
tagging: whoever wants to!
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rhymingpredictions · 6 years ago
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rhymingpredictions · 6 years ago
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Astrological Profile: Virgo
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Symbol: The Virgin Element: Earth Quality: Mutable Ruling Planet: Mercury — the planet of communication Body Part: Stomach, waist, digestive system Good Day: Dedicated, resourceful, helpful, hardworking, witty, practical Bad Day: Preachy, self-destructive, overwhelmed, self-pitying, uptight, critical Favorite Things: Laptops, magazines, long showers with aromatherapy soaps, outdoor concerts, childhood friends, Trivial Pursuit What You Hate: Lazy or vulgar people, dive bars, spicy food, leaving home, toothpaste squeezed from the top of the tube Secret Wish: To be a hero How to Spot Them: Baby faces, roving eyes that are sizing up or analyzing a situation Where You’ll Find Them: Babysitting for the neighbor’s kids, running errands on their endlessly long to-do lists, building something with their own two hands, cleaning something to spotless condition Keywords for Virgo: Health, Helpfulness, Order, Organization, Innocence, Purity
From work ethic to wardrobe, impeccable Virgos are the epitome of #flawless. They can pull off the “I Woke Up Like This” look—even if they’d rather spend a couple of hours primping and putting themselves together in the mirror. Because Virgos can get stressed from micromanaging their lives (and other people’s!), downtime is crucial for them. They cherish their solitude and can spend indulgent hours reading, writing, planning, decluttering or dreaming up creative projects. But they’ll always spring into action for a friend in need. Because observant Virgos can quickly spot the flaws in everything, they can come across as critical or judgmental. They’re only trying to help! But when they lapse into preachy mode, they may need a reminder that they don’t have to “fix” the world. As hard as Virgos may be on loved ones, they’re even harder on themselves. This giving sign needs to learn the art of receiving—a lifelong struggle for many.
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rhymingpredictions · 6 years ago
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💕 for Eveline!
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wazzappp · 9 months ago
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First of all
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Ok, with that out of the way.
/“I appreciate the gesture,” Robbie said, keeping his voice level and his eyes facing the camera of his BSAA-issued laptop, “but please don’t send us any more legs.” --- “M-my brother has sensory issues. He doesn’t eat meat anymore. I won’t eat it in front of him.”/
Oh yeah its for sure Gabe with the issues dude for sure. Also him not wanting to eat meat anymore after the uh. ''''food''' on the Bakers estate makes SO much sense dude holy shit.
/“There’s some stores near the military base that cater to Americans,” the agent offered, and Robbie died a little inside. “I’ll see if we can order through there. How about vegetables?”/
GOOD NEWS you no longer have to pay for groceries BAD NEWS you are no longer the one buying groceries
/The BSAA hadn’t asked before enrolling Robbie in the University of Barcelona’s undergraduate correspondence program, anymore than they’d asked Gabe before signing him up for remote learning with the local equivalent to middle school. “Pick?” he asked hesitantly./
Oh my god. Robbie 'I didn't think i would get to go to college' Reyes. YOU CAN PERSUE!! HIGHER EDUCATION!!! <33 you probably wont ever get to USE IT or have a real job but HEY! EDUCATION. Makes sense they would do that to make sure he stays busy. Idle hands do the molded's work or something or other
THE CLEANING OBSESSION OF COURSEEEEEE. NO MOLD OR MILDEW IN THIS HOUSE NO THANK YOU BEGONE T H O T. 'He may have a problem' YEAH NO DUDE YOU FUCKIN T H I N K???? The bit about two okays never being ok ohhhhhhhh shittttttttt. Translating his dealing with social worker experience to dealing with bioweapon management agent the skills transfer the skills transfer big time.
/No.” It was a daily BSAA-issued pill. The first day on his antifungal, Robbie threw up black mold into the toilet until he passed out and slept for ten hours. Better out than in, he’d figured. The next day, and every day since, had been fine./
AAGHHHHH OK OK THATS. HORRIFYING. CAUSE HES NOT THROWING UP FOOD. HES ACUTALLY THROWING UP. HIMSELF. THAT IS THE MOLD THAT MAKES HIM UP HE IS THROWING UP THE EQUAL OF HIS OWN FLESH OH SHIT OH GOD OH FUCK OH FUUUUUCKKKKK AAAHAHHHAAAA. Oh my god has he figured that hes infected at this point??? or is he still in denial and thinking thats just like. part of him getting better??????? cause holy FUCK. And did The Mold just adapt to this antifungal? Because thats fucking TERRIFYING. I mean i could totally see it being able to do that its a fairly novel deal and the only shit that really worked well against it is medicine synthesized from Eveline's failed siblings. Oh shit fuck YEAH it would TOTALLY make sense for it to be able to just gain resistance its a super fungus why NOT. God thats good thats SO GOOD AAGHHHHHHHH
THE WHOLE BIT ABOUT NIGHTMARES. AND GABES LATER 'Cause it gave you my nightmares' ARE. ARE THEY SHARING NIGHTMARES BECAUSE OF A CONNECTION THROUGH THE HIVEMIND??????? WOOOGHDJKL. AJKJOHHHJFKLS:AAAAAA. GABE IS HAVING NIGHTMARES ABOUT ROBBIE NOT SURVIVING AND GETTING CHOPPED UP AND SERVED TO HIM TO EAT HOOOOOOOOOLY SHIT THATS FUCKING AWESOME well not awesome but you understand AAAAA HOW DID I NOT THINK OF THAT YOU GENIUS AAAAA THATS SO GOOD THATS SO FUCKING GOOD FROTHING AT THE MOUTH SCREAMING BITING SCRATCHING CLAWINGJFKDSL:JFKSDL:JFKLSD:JFKL:SJKF:UWIOE:FJKWL HFIUSDPJF KLSDJFIOEOJFIEOP
Gabes room always smelling a little mildewy because of his practice with planting sclerotia pods outside ohhhhhhh lets fucking GOOOOOOO MILDLY OFFPUTTING GABE FTW
/Robbie tried to calm himself. Just because Gabe had left the house, didn’t mean he was going to wander over the hills and disappear for two days. Again./
He fucking WHAT.
Robbie having trouble adjusting to Gabe being able to move freely without limitation godddd. It would be so totally surreal to him. He would be so used to helping Gabe move at this point honestly it must be strange for BOTH of them jesus christ.
/watching Gabe mulch and water them as they unfurled their leaves and their flowers set into fruit made them more trustworthy, somehow, than the bitter green things sold chopped up in bags at the grocery store./
OKOK LISTEN I CANT TELL IF ITS JUST 'ah yes I watched these grow I like that more' OR IF ITS THAT HE SUBCONSIOUSLY TRUSTS THIS FOOD MORE BECAUSE ITS GROWTH WAS ENCOURAGED BY GABES SCLEROTIA PODS AND THE MOLD THAT MAKES UP HIS BODY IS GOING 'MORE OF US!!! MORE OF US!!!!' i like both but i think you know what one I like just a little teensy weensy bit more
RObbie experiencing cannon Gabes fears about 'oh what if thats not my brother oh god oh no' hogoh. wohoohggh. OW. I MEAN YEAH THE SCAR FROM YOUR PREVIOUSLY DISMEMBERED ARM THAT WAS STAPLED BACK ON WOULD BE A PRETTY SHITTY REMINDER OF THAT.
Robbie. Robbie honey this. this is not what mushrooms look like
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IGNORANCE IS FUCKING BLISS I GUESS.
/Gabe stared down at the stomped remains of the mushroom. “I’m not creepy?”/
AAAAAAAAAA GABE BEING AFRAID. OF SCARING ROBBIE WITH HIS ABILITIESAASFJKASAAAAAAAAAAAAGHHHH. F U C K. oh god how is that conversation gonna go. I mean I dont think Gabe would just TELL him so Robbie would have to walk in on him mid Glowing-Mold-Making-Session which would be. uh UNFORTUNATE. JUST A LITTLE FREAK OUT INDUCING.
/“You can do that?” Robbie had heard that mushrooms were easy to grow with a kit, but he’d never seen it done. He felt a swell of pride at the gardening knowledge Gabe had absorbed from his tablet so quickly./
AHA. AHAHA. FUCK.
GR/RE7 AU fanfic: Weird Fungus
Referencing this piece of meta explaining @wazzappp's amazing All-New Ghost Rider/Resident Evil fusion AU, here is a little fic about Robbie and Gabe settling in to their little off-grid house where the BSAA stashed them after they survived Dulvey, Louisiana, and developed a cleaning compulsion (Robbie) and a sudden desire to wander away where no one can find him physically, audibly, or psychically (Gabe).
To set the scene, imagine some well-meaning BSAA agent sends Robbie this thing in their regular food delivery.
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“I appreciate the gesture,” Robbie said, keeping his voice level and his eyes facing the camera of his BSAA-issued laptop, “but please don’t send us any more legs.”
The agent on the other end frizzled out into pixels and cocked her head on a two-second delay. “Legs? Oh, the, uh.” She tapped on her screen. “Jam-on serano? It’s supposed to be really good with wine.”
“Jamón, ham, the leg. With the foot, and the bones and, uh.” Robbie swallowed as he recalled opening the weekly food delivery and finding the top half of the box occupied by a skinned, cured-and-dried, but still massive animal limb, the thin flesh just below the toes still printed with rope marks. He could see the seams between every muscle. He could see its kneecap. At the opposite end, he could see the severed end of its thigh bone. “M-my brother has sensory issues. He doesn’t eat meat anymore. I won’t eat it in front of him.”
The BSAA agent made a note. “We can accommodate special dietary needs if you let us know. Is there anything specific you would prefer?”
Robbie fought the urge to tear at his hair. “Um. Tomato soup? Like, regular tomato soup, not gazpacho? Macaroni noodles. Some kind of cheese that doesn’t get all stringy as soon as it cools down. Frijoles, you know, normal refried beans? He likes those but not the ones that come swimming in the weird broth. Um, fish is okay—as long as it doesn’t have heads or bones in it. Potatoes are good. Eggs are good.”
“There’s some stores near the military base that cater to Americans,” the agent offered, and Robbie died a little inside. “I’ll see if we can order through there. How about vegetables?”
“His garden is growing really good. We’re good for vegetables.”
“Wow.” Robbie wondered if he’d said something wrong as the agent made another note. “Very nice, I’m glad you two are settling in.”
Not much of an option, being on house-arrest, Robbie thought. “Thanks.”
“Are you excited to start classes?”
Robbie knew this script, a back-and-forth he’d muddled through with a half-dozen social workers back in LA. “Very much. I value my education and I will complete my assignments independently and on time.”
She chuckled. Robbie wondered if he’d said something wrong. “You know, this is the real world, not high school. You can ask for help if you need it. Have you picked a major yet?”
The BSAA hadn’t asked before enrolling Robbie in the University of Barcelona’s undergraduate correspondence program, anymore than they’d asked Gabe before signing him up for remote learning with the local equivalent to middle school. “Pick?” he asked hesitantly.
“I think you’ve still got a few weeks to think about it, and you can always change majors, but, yeah, you might want to contact their guidance department if you’re not sure what courses to sign up for.” Now it was Robbie’s turn to make a note. “Chris will be over today, you can try asking him.”
“Oh.” Mr. Redfield’s visits were always on short notice, but Robbie usually had more than a matter of hours to mentally prepare himself. “Uh. We also need more bleach, please.”
“You just got two liters last month,” the agent said. “You know it’s bad for the septic system?”
Robbie kept his face blank, open. “It’s for cleaning. I’m not pouring it in the drains.”
“You know you’re supposed to dilute it?” the agent pressed him.
“One to ten,” Robbie recited, realizing as he said it that he’d managed to use about five gallons of disinfectant in a single month. He may have a problem. “I’m keeping the kitchen clean. The counters and the refrigerator. And both bathrooms. The grout. Under the lid for the cistern. Door handles.”
“Okay, okay.” Robbie winced; two okays was never okay. “I’ll send you more bleach. And some gloves.”
“Thank-you.”
“You sleeping alright?”
Loaded question. Robbie’s eyes flicked involuntarily to the BSAA-issued Alexa perched on a high shelf in the kitchen. “I’m sleeping.”
“Bad dreams?” The agent’s image pixelated again before stabilizing, and Robbie took advantage of the brief signal disruption to press his face hard into both palms. He could control himself during the day but of course their bugs heard it when he woke up screaming.
“Yeah.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Robbie doubted she would take no for an answer and doubted his own ability to prevaricate. He shrugged. “Louisiana. Dinner table with Momm—Mrs. Baker, and her husband and Eveline.” That was an odd feature of his recurring nightmares: he identified Mr. and Mrs. Baker in his thoughts as Mommy and Daddy, and his fear of them was twisted together with familiarity, even gratitude. “They had my body chopped up in pots.”
The agent made a sympathetic noise. “They tried to eat you?”
“Could be worse,” Robbie said, shrugging again. At least the people they ate didn’t turn into fanged piles of black sludge and stagger around their decaying home for eternity. “I think I’m just
” He glanced around the study: empty, except for the big table and the bookshelf full of Spanish novels that had proved embarrassingly challenging. “I’m, like—in my dreams I’m looking down at myself in the pot and Mm-Mrs. Baker tells me to eat up. I mean. They didn’t have any real food.” He crossed his arms and dug his nails into his own elbows, fighting vertigo. “It was all rotten. No cans left. The animals were all dead.”
“You’re worried about what your brother went through,” the agent said, and Robbie straightened.
“No.” He held his breath, grasping for some plausible argument. They killed dogs that ate people, didn’t they? The BSAA’s hold on their lives now was absolute. “They only had him a few months. I, I mean. It’s my dreams. Making things up.”
“Any problems with your medication? You have the list of side effects to watch for?”
“No.” It was a daily BSAA-issued pill. The first day on his antifungal, Robbie threw up black mold into the toilet until he passed out and slept for ten hours. Better out than in, he’d figured. The next day, and every day since, had been fine. “I mean, no side effects. We’re okay.” A bird warbled and piped from outside, loud and close. Robbie hadn’t left any windows open overnight. He straightened and turned, just as he heard the side door click shut. “Gabe?”
“Should we cut this short?” the agent asked, helpful for once, and Robbie nodded.
“I appreciate it. It’s probably nothing.” He ended the call and checked the dining room, where Gabe often read or watched laggy videos on his own BSAA-issued laptop, and Gabe’s room, where a cornucopia of superhero collectibles spilled from the bed to the floor and a faint (illusory, had to be) scent of mildew lingered despite Robbie’s vigorous daily whole-house cleaning schedule. “Gabe?” He must be outside. Robbie tried to calm himself. Just because Gabe had left the house, didn’t mean he was going to wander over the hills and disappear for two days. Again.
He stepped over the threshold, out from the hundred-year-old walls of his new home and into the alien wilderness: hot sun and rocky hills, no sound but the wind in his ears and birds chattering in the spicy-sweet desert shrubs. He squinted downhill, to the south: shrubs, cliffs, the Mediterranean sea glittering up at him. He peered west: shrubs, hills, the distant remains of a shattered stone fort and the faintly visible danger signs surrounding a radioactive ghost town. He checked north: shrubs, gravel driveway that carved switchbacks over the hills until it disappeared over the horizon, still no Gabe. Assuming that it had been Gabe shutting the door behind him and not the wind, he’d only left the house a few minutes ago; he couldn’t have run out of Robbie’s sight that fast. He might be crouched down to examine some plant or insect, or he might be hiding. (It was still so strange to see Gabe doing these things: running, climbing, hiding. The goddamn study had never even suggested their treatment would do anything for Gabe’s physical limitations, just save his life. When he’d first found Gabe in the Baker house, strong and agile and trying his best to stab him to death, he’d thought Gabe was literally possessed by a demon. The little girl’s mental influence was gone; the abilities she’d given Gabe remained.) He circled around to the east side of the house, reassuring himself that he could always run back inside and climb out onto the roof to get a bird’s eye view (Gabe could just crouch down below some fragrant desert bush and almost disappear), and then all the air rushed out of his lungs with a strange little wheeze when he saw Gabe hunched over and kicking something in the garden.
“Hey, Bud.” Gabe hated being snuck up on after Louisiana, and honestly, so did Robbie. (Gabe could sneak up on him now.) Robbie picked his way through the sprawling jungle of the vegetable garden: beans twining up gnarled bushes and driftwood stakes, tomato vines heavy with fruit stretched out over the sandy ground between lush bunches of lettuce, mellow paprika peppers blazing like Christmas lights from leafy stems. Most of Gabe’s plants, he’d started by planting left-over stems and seeds from their weekly meal prep shipment directly into the dirt with a handful of rotting food-scraps, and they never failed to sprout with a few days of watering. Robbie found himself happy to eat these home-grown vegetables; watching Gabe mulch and water them as they unfurled their leaves and their flowers set into fruit made them more trustworthy, somehow, than the bitter green things sold chopped up in bags at the grocery store. If he’d known growing his own food was this easy, he’d have dug up a roadside strip back in Los Angeles years ago.
Normally there were bees buzzing around the pepper and tomato blossoms, but Gabe’s kicking had scared them off. Robbie approached slowly as Gabe grabbed his digging stick. He hated the tingle of fear down his spine. He had to concentrate to keep from grabbing the scar on his left forearm, reminding himself as he so often did that Gabe was a physically normal kid now. Normal kids could be violent. It didn’t mean anything was wrong. It didn’t mean this wasn’t Gabe.
Gabe side-stepped to hide what he’d been kicking from Robbie, shoving dirt over it with his well-worn stick. Robbie still saw a flash of something red, fleshy. He swallowed. “What is that?”
Gabe dropped his stick and rubbed his face in the crook of his elbow, breath hitching. Robbie stepped closer and saw that the red meaty object was not, to his profound relief, an animal. He wasn’t sure what it was: narrow, spongy, bruised and moist from Gabe’s shoe, with dark gray parts and a tapering red stripe on each of its wedge-shaped segments, looking like a dog’s mouth or one of those bizarre tropical flowers that only blooms every hundred years. “Weird fungus,” Gabe managed.
Robbie knelt down to look at it. He’d never seen a wild mushroom before; he didn’t expect them to be so big, or to be shaped like an open mouth. The colors were a bit like the red and white mushrooms in cartoons, though. “Is it poisonous?”
Gabe shook his head. “It helps the vegetables,” he choked out. “But, I. I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry, I’m sorry you got nightmares. I didn’t mean to.”
Robbie covered his mouth. This was his fault; he hadn’t checked that Gabe was in his room before his call with the BSAA agent. He had to get it through his head that Gabe could move quickly and quietly now, that this was their normal. “I’m so sorry you heard that,” he said. That wouldn’t undo that Gabe had heard that. “Buddy. Gabe.” He reached up for a hug, and Gabe hesitated, staring at his left arm. “That’s just a dream. That’s just my brain trying to make sense of things that make me unhappy, and I’m unhappy about what the Bakers and, and Eveline did to you. Not anything you did. Okay?” Gabe sniffled and rubbed his face again, and Robbie kept his arms open, waiting. “I’m so proud of you for making it out of there. For surviving. I’ll never blame you for anything you had to do to survive.”
Gabe stared down at the stomped remains of the mushroom. “I’m not creepy?”
“No, never. You’re my little bro,” Robbie assured him, and Gabe sat down and flung himself against Robbie’s side. “Why’d you kill the mushroom?”
“Cause it gave you my nightmares,” Gave mumbled. He must mean, nightmares about me, an accurate deduction that would make Dr. DaCosta back home intensely proud of his social reasoning skills, except that Robbie had never seen this mushroom before. Robbie figured that before Gabe smashed it, it must have been nightmarish to look at, in a Hot Topic sort of way. “It’s creepy.”
“I think it looks cool,” Robbie remarked. Spain was full of cool things, now that he had the time and safety to sit back and contemplate them: bugs. Seaweed and weird critters that washed up on the beach. Flowers. Birds that sang—he’d thought their reputation for “singing” was an exaggeration, but it turned out that birds actually do sing. An infinite carpet of stars stretching out overhead, pinks and blues and yellows and so many tiny white lights that the black night might as well have been splashed with foam. And now, huge mushrooms that looked like toothy mouths. “You said it helps the garden, right? I’m not scared of mushrooms that aren’t poisonous.”
“Sure you’re not,” Gabe muttered.
“I’m not scared of mushrooms outside the house,” Robbie qualified. “Will the vegetables be okay?”
Gabe looked up and bit his lip. “Maybe. If I water more. They can’t use the seawater.”
“I’ll calculate how much we can spare from the cistern without running low,” Robbie offered. “We can take shorter showers.”
“I’ll just grow another one.” Gabe poked at the fragments of mushroom with his shoe.
“You can do that?” Robbie had heard that mushrooms were easy to grow with a kit, but he’d never seen it done. He felt a swell of pride at the gardening knowledge Gabe had absorbed from his tablet so quickly.
“It’s really easy,” Gabe said. “But. You gotta tell me if you get my dreams again. Okay?”
“Okay.” Robbie hugged him tighter. “I won’t take your dreams.”
“I don’t think you can do that.” A bee circled overhead and landed on a bean flower. They watched as it nudged its whole head inside the petals, wings and legs fluttering industriously.
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rhymingpredictions · 6 years ago
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Archetype quiz
take the quiz here
repost, don’t reblog
tagging: @inimicorum @griffin-acixd @ofmaribcr @rivianxwolf @aen-consilium @weltschmerze @gynvaell
EVELINE GALLO
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Results:
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rhymingpredictions · 6 years ago
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𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: stolen from @gynvaell 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: @ofmaribcr @rivianxwolf @fallesto @inimicorum @akindlymonster @weltschmerze @griffin-acixd
Eveline Gallo
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𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒:
arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops /  stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth.
𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄:
hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off — cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips, knitted brows
𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐍:
arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose
𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄:
hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin /  rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up /  shoulders back / arms or hands folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo
𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐗𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐘:
chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging at pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer/marker/cane / smacking lips / sighing /rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically
𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:
short breaths   /   “tsk” sounds /   tightly-clenched hands /   fist-like gestures  /  pointing index finger /  rubbing hand through hair /   rubbing back of neck  /   snarling   /  revealing teeth/grimacing   /  sharp-eyed glowers w/ notable tension in brow /shoulders back, head up — defensive posturing   /   clenching of jaw/grinding teeth  /  nostrils flaring   /   heavy exhales / forehead touching
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