#• [ �� ᴘᴀʟᴇʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ꜱᴋʏ ]) 👁 ([ bloodborne au ] •

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[ also bb!p update defeated gascoigne and he has gemini now :)

and we pull epic pranks on old men ]

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i go to the hunter's dream

i push gehrman down the stairs--

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he's off to kill a dad

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[ bloodborne!p sketches teehe ]

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meanwhile, in bb verse...

ROLLS IN THE VASE BREAKS THE CATHEDRAL'S WINDOWS USES A CANDLE AS A WEAPON. THROWS THE EYES IN THE VASES AT THE BEASTS OUTSIDE

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@yellowfingcr

Maybe he shouldn't put so much attention to himself. Maybe he should learn to play more stealthy, to attack from afar, avoid battles at all costs.

Avoid grand entrances like this one, almost riding a giant beast he just pushed out of a window, landing with a loud slam on the nearby bridge--

--and stumbling forward, completely messing up said entrance. The Beast was dead, but the puppet was down too.

What a shame.

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@vilestblood

There's blood. There's a lot of blood.

Pinocchio stepped into it without even noticing at first. Human's, beast's, he isn't sure.

Perhaps, that's why he was taken by curiosity, that's why he decided to follow that macabre red road, barely paying mind to the cut limbs and weapons left on the ground as he instead focused in front of him, turning the necessary corners to see who (what), exactly, could start such a massacre.

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@rake-rake

An emergency fix. He hated having to sit down and fix that arm - the left, much more complex than the right, almost seemingly unfinished. It stopped working in the middle of a battle he won almost by pure luck rather than actual skills, forcing him to rush away from danger and hide in the first empty house he could find, completely unaware of the terrible smell coming from inside.

Sitting in a corner, he kept his sword close to him, ready to pick it up if he heard steps. Just be patient, he thought to himself ( can puppets even think? It came natural to him! ). Just five minutes, and you'll be out there again.

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[ bloodborne AU ideas ]

Dismas is a Tomb Prospector turned Hunter of Hunters turned. Simple criminal, casted away after he connected the dots and refused to partecipate to the massacre of Yharnam. Imagine him as your usual NPC bossfight, not too dissimilar to Djura He generally lurks around either Central Yharnam or, more likely, the village in the Forbidden Woods. He refuses to get Blood transfusions, but he got so many already before the big reveal he fears he's doomed to eventually turn into a Beast, anyway

Pinocchio is, basically, a new twist to the Plain Dolls, created to fight alongside Hunters. He was made similar to one members of the Powder Kegs, just to be left on his own after a Hunt. The oddest thing about him is that he can Dream, returning back to life when he's destroyed. Just like the Plain Doll in the Dream, however, he doesn't move for those who's Eyes are still closed.

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🤨

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• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ verses tag dump ] •

VERSES

• [ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀᴍ ]) 👁 ([ flashbacks ] •

• [ ʟɪᴇs ᴏғ ᴘ ]) 👁 ([ gameverse ] •

• [ ʀɪsᴇ ᴏғ ᴘ ]) 👁 ([ post game ] •

• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴍʟᴇᴛ ]) 👁 ([ darkest dungeon ] •

• [ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ darkest dungeon 2 ] •

• [ ᴋɪʟʟ ᴅɪᴇ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛ ]) 👁 ([ gameverse ] •

• [ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏᴘʜᴇᴄʏ ]) 👁 ([ immortalis ] •

• [ ᴘᴜʀᴇ ᴏᴅɪᴏ ]) 👁 ([ dominion of hate ] •

AUs

• [ ᴀ ᴘᴀʟᴇʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ꜱᴋʏ ]) 👁 ([ bloodborne au ] •

• [ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ darkest dungeon au ] •

• [ ᴛɪᴍᴇʟᴏᴏᴘᴇᴅ ]) 👁 ([ dead cells au ] •

• [ ꜱᴇᴄᴜʀɪᴛʏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ]) 👁 ([ scp au ] •

• [ ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛ sᴛʀɪɴɢs ]) 👁 ([ lies of p au ] •

• [ ʙᴜᴛᴛᴇʀғʟɪᴇs ᴀɴᴅ sᴘɪᴅᴇʀs ]) 👁 ([ spiderverse au ] •

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Oh, how embarrassing. Or, at least, Pinocchio is feeling... something close to embarrassment. A weird feeling in his chest, where his heart should be. Guess this is what awkwardness feels like.

"...if other Beasts appear, maybe I will."

Still, he answers with his usual monotone voice, serious and sure of himself even if he looked down, avoiding eye contact and instead making sure that the thing at his feet was truly dead, and that he didn't get hit anywhere. He was already about to tell her that he didn't need any vial or that he didn't need to drink anything, but...

I actually don't know what else I have in my pockets.

...oh, it looks like that caught his curiosity!

Heysel, accidental witness to this scene and woman whose respect can in fact be won through displays of supreme disregard for one’s own well being, shouts with unbridled joy. Watch him go! Watch him be the beast tamer in the ring, riding upon the fearsome animal’s back and the public’s delight, fireworks of glass exploding around him!

Watch him land like a thrown banana peel?

She’s still chuckling a little when she hurries to check for his well being, a quick shape of cloth and soot. If he is a hunter, which she assumes he must be, he must made of much stronger stuff than most; concern can be afforded to come lagging behind amusement. 

“Do it again,” she intones, the theatrical pitch of a fan before her favorite athlete. “But seriously, everything alright? Need a vial, need a drop of water? A little bit of... I actually don't know what else I have in my pockets.”

She’s freshly emerged from the mazes underground, the dirt on her uniform says. This was most likely the first thing she'd seen in weeks that wasn't a Pthumerian relic. And, the expression on her face also says, she couldn't be happier about it.

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A slow blink, mechanical and... confused? No, he wouldn't say confused. He's mostly curious, really.

Is it good, to be curious about blood and gore? ...can a doll even be curious to begin with?

Pinocchio frowned lightly, mostly at those silly thoughts in his brain than the other's presence. He didn't dress like a Hunter - but yet again, neither of them did. He was called like one, once or twice, but he still didn't fully understand what a Hunter should do.

They hunt, he guesses. And that person in front of him sure hunted a Beast as well.

"...just someone passing by.", he still lied, head tilted slightly on the side as he studied the other.

Not who. What. Odd. People rarely see him move, and those who do immediately assume he's human.

How peculiar.

"Did you kill that?"

Both. Beast and human blood.

The Crow was late. His prey, a blood-drunk hunter, succumbed to beasthood quite rapidly and massacred most of the patients and caregivers in this area. Then, he had merely ended their suffering, killing the beast and then the few agonising bundles of thorn flesh left in its wake. An act of mercy — even if he felt little for anyone.

"Hm?" No turning to face the intruder, not that his face would be visible behind the oclusive mask of his helmet. He sniffs the air a moment later, absently, catching a contrasting scent that isn't human or beastly.

"What are you?"

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A woman. Not dressed like a Hunter, nor like a member of the Church, and certainly not a Beast.

He kept eye contact with her - she, standing, worried, holding tight what he learned to recognize as incense, even if he couldn't smell it, and he on the ground, his left arm limp on his legs, fixed as well as he could with the little set of tools he brought with him, staring with wide, yet emotionless eyes.

"...more or less."

Not a truth, not a lie. Something in between, both and neither.

"Is this your house?"

It looked pretty empty before, but... guess he might as well ask. Sneaking somewhere isn't half bad, but sneaking in someone else's place? That would've been just rude.

"Sorry. I guess."

...and so is adding a 'I guess' after that, but it was said mostly out of confusion, rather than actual rudeness. Hopefully she'll get it.

Incense seems to become more and more scarce as time passes, a priced possession in short supply and out of everyone but a few's reach due to its price. Even if she had the money, her reputation preceded her and merchants seemed reticent to interacts with her, always hearing the whispers, and the few that did would shun her by offering her their goods to even twice the price. With her work, she could always make by with he basic needs, lust was something than ran in the lower parts of the city the same way than ashen blood. However, as years passed she saw herself in need to sell more and more of her heirlooms in order to afford the one thing that would ward off beasts, to the point that now all she had was her dress. The last remembrance of a family she never met, and which she refused to let go off.

Which is what put her into the current predicament. Arianna wasn't strong or skilled nor held any particular quality a hunter did, but she resourceful, small and thin and could slid among the nooks and crannies with the cover of dark. There was nothing to lose, the beasts had already broke into her house and she had managed to run away by the skin of her neck, maybe a prayer heard by some merciful god. Her neighbor had already left this plane if the screams she heard before where something to give any indication, and her shoes were quick to soak in blood as she made her way inside through a broken window, hurriedly cheeking drawers and counters in a vain try to find some incense to burn and keep herself for the rest of the night.

It's then that she hears the sound of someone breaking in as well. Either a beast or someone else trying to do the same she was now, none of the possibilities seemed good for her. Pouch of incense finally found held to her chest, she carefully moves across the room to peek at the newcomer from around a corner, hand holding onto the wall in fear as crimson eyes widen a fraction with surprise, but then also hope.

"Are you... a hunter...?"