#🕑 rexer

[wordsofthespirits]

He blinks awake. His tongue is there, heavy in his mouth, but numb. Like it doesn’t belong to him anymore. Like something foreign stitched in, hollow, an intruder. The taste of metal lingers, sharp and unmistakable, spreading through his senses like a slow, creeping poison. A reminder. He knows what happened. He knows it was real. Robin’s gaze drifts, lands on the one responsible—the timekeeper, his hands stained with the evidence of what he’s done, of the places he’s reached into, the parts of Robin he’s pulled apart and pieced back like he’s some machine, some plaything to dissect.

🎵 ❝...❞ He doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t bother wasting breath on someone who’s already stolen too much from him.

"Rexerrr?~ I got you a present, my lord~"

>[Bartholomew has returned, currently wearing a disguise. Having taken the form of the very same man laying on the floor, having dropped out of the portal above. @wordsofthespirits ]

>[Of course, per usual, his face looks different, the inhumanly wide smile, the many eyes, that off behavior of his.]

>[ @deadworld-fakeprotagonist]

[Not counted as an event ask bc this is going to be a loooong ass thread between 3 folks (maybe). It was sent before yall did Rexer/Robin dirty. Sorry boys ; ×; ]

Rexer's head practically snapped to look over at the voice. Seeing such a familiar face, it alarmed the time keeper at first, but seeing the second body upon the floor, the [-PROTAGONIST-] was quick to clear up the assumption he made mentally.

> "If you call me that again, I won't hesitate to kill you. Do not call me that."

Seems like someone is still touchy about the name, but he can't stop anyone from. Calling him such things, he sadly does not have that power as much as he wished he could.

Looking at the man on the floor, Rexer narrowed his eyes. When he asked for information, he didn't mean bringing it physically here to his abode. That was going to be a problem if they noticed each other.

> "He can't stay here. We already have a guest here."

He makes the notion to Robin, who still lays unconscious from his prior experiences. It looks like he was in the middle of preparing what to do with the other until Bartholomew dropped in.

He didn't even thank or praise Bartholomew for his generous gift.

[wordsofthespirits]

Rexer, Robin, do you like each other?

What a stupid, stupid fucking question. Him and Rexer? Get along?

❝ I’d rather be torn apart— ❞ his voice drops low, sharp, bitter like acid—

❝ atom by atom, cell by cell— ❞ he spits out the words, each one laced with venom—

❝ than to get along with that idiot who thinks he can boss others around, who thinks he knows what’s right. ❞

[wordsofthespirits]

[[ uh oh, there he gOOOOOEES (i just realized BRR stands for Bartholomew, Rexer and Robin) ]]

mod can i please please please request a brr doodle? to fed the needy? 🥺👉👈

ft. @deadworld-fakeprotagonist n @wordsofthespirits

[wordsofthespirits]

Robin shakes his head, sharp and quick like he’s shaking something loose, some weight clinging to his bones. No. No, this isn’t his fault. Not his to carry. Vincent got away—escaped the haunting fate, the blood-soaked ghosts of two kills hanging over his head.

🎵 ❝ No. It's not me... or Chase this time. No matter what you think.... Stop blaming us for every anomaly just because I like playing with my powers you screw up. ❞ Robin tells himself it’s fine, that it’s all fine, but his mind is -racing- spiraling, twisting in on itself like a knife digging in deep.

I have come across an interesting discovery. It appears in one universe, Vincent Charbonneau escapes the fire alive.

(🥀anon)

> "Charbonneau... Ah, that's right, the little chef with no taste... Interesting... But escaping the fires is not the fate he was supposed to meet. Isn't that right, my little song bird?"

He is making unnerving eye contact with Robin. Mainly because he knows the other's mistakes. After all, he was messing with the lives of everyone to better themselves, to have an undeserving "do-over".

He isn't going to let it down, he will fix the other's mistakes, and have everything go back to the way it was meant to be. There was no second chances for him or Warren, so why does anyone else deserve such a feat? Rexer's ideals were like a double-edged blade.

> "What did Chase ever do to that man from Lamoree's time, hm? Did he kill him? Make him pick up your slack?"

> [4/5]

@wordsofthespirits

[wordsofthespirits]

🎵 "Damn it! What the fuck?! don't just pull me whenever you feel like it OBVIOUSLY my wrist might break!"

Robin yells at Rexer, ready to lift his hand to slap the other man but he holds back, his eye twitching.

So, how's the cuff situation going? Are you two getting along now? >:3

> "Is this a serious question? This is by far much worse than spending eons between the rifts of time and space."

Rexer stares at the linked cuffs between him and Robin. An unbreakable bond that was formed by hatred. They were never going to get along, so long as one of them lived.

They hate each other.

> "Though, it is quite humorous when this happens."

Saying that, he yanks his cuffed arm to make the other protagonist follow suit with his hand jerking. Though, it still hurt to have metal digging into one's skin.

He snickers, finding this the only amusement out of the situation. He knows what he's doing.

@wordsofthespirits

[1/5]

[wordsofthespirits]

❝Who’s this moron?❞ Robin’s voice cuts through the air, sharp enough to leave marks.

He sneers, sizing up Warren like he’s a puzzle he wants to smash apart and piece back together again. There’s something interesting here, something almost too clean, too precise about the way Warren moves.

He’s efficient, professional, not a thing like Chase—Chase, who’s messy and full of reckless dedication, who lives for the thrill. But Warren? Warren’s the kind of contrast that snags at Robin's mind, all bitter edges wrapped in something disturbingly sweet. It’s almost funny, the way this guy assumes Robin's the problem. Like he’s just another loose end to be tied up. Don’t correct him. Play dumb. See where this goes.

❝Wow, Rexer.❞ Robin says, the name falling from his lips like a challenge, a twist. He never calls him by name, never gives Rexer the satisfaction. But this is different. ❝What’s this? Your little... plaything?❞

A weird hole semmed to appear on the wall, small enough to take a peek at first, then big enough for a whole person to easily walk through. Weirdly enough, a person did walk through this hole! A familiar broken face and smug smile and egocentrical attitude.

>"Hey Angel! How is work goin--"

The smile seemed to drop from his face and look at the extra person with disgust. He took a glance at the cuffs uniting them before snapping his fingers a small black hole quickly appeared between the cuffs, breaking them and setting them free. with a sigh, he called back the small dot of void.

>"There better be a good explanation on what just happened here."

The illusionist of nothing didn't seem very pleased to have someone else so... close to Rexer. Almost like he was jealous of it. He snapped his fingers again to get rid of the dot. to then gently grab Rexer by the wrist and pulled him away

>"Are you alright? He didn't do anything did he? Want me to send him to the void? the entrance is still open.

He said while looking at Robin with anger, then looking back at the other shorter man and cupping his face with a tint of worry.

//WarrenMod here, HII I DONT HATE ROBIN I THINK HE'S SILLY AND I LOVE HIM SM <3 (warren is just mean)

Looking over the cuffs, Rexer had grown tired. He wished he could just snap his fingers and make them disappear, but alas, he cannot. He looks at Robin, a bit annoyed at the situation.

> "This is all your fault. Do you realize that?"

It certainly wasn't Rexer's. That's for damn sure. There is no way the man would think to do this in a million years. It's bad enough that he has to deal with Bartholomew breathing down his neck.

He would have continued, but the sudden wide opening from nowhere was familiar. Then followed by the tone of voice. Rexer practically cringed at the pet name the other gave him, finding it all too embarrassing.

> "Just help me out already, you half-wit."

Finally, the linked chains between the two were swiftly broken, thanks to Warren's aid. Rexer immediately snaps off the cuff locked around his wrist. The time keeper doesn't even realize the menacing glare coming from his partner. However, being pulled away, Rexer grew confused.

> "No? Do you expect someone like him to do anything at all to me? You..."

Of course, words fell from his lips as his cheeks were held, the sudden warmth from his partner's hands. The look of concern sprawled over his face, for a moment, Rexer was stunned I to silence...

...And then he promptly punched the other in the gut, watching him recoil.

> "That's for making me cover your shifts, you ass hat!!"

> [5/5]

@wordsofthespirits

[wordsofthespirits]

Robin groaned when he heard what the anon said. Nothing else needed to be said other than the silent "What the hell are these people trying to say?".

Wow, look at you two cuffed together. 😒, what if both your co-workers saw you two like this?

> "Whatever it is, you are insinuating. Keep such delusions to yourself! There is absolutely no reason to think we would ever....!! Blegh!!"

He looked a bit annoyed at such a bold assumption. Then again, they never said it directly, but the look he gave was evident enough as to what he thought of the matter.

> "Coworkers? Oh, please. One of them can't even see properly, and the other barely shows up when he wants to. I doubt we'll be expecting visits from them soon."

He says this, but he knows very well Warren would do anything to keep him safe. The man was broken down to do nothing more than his bidding. Rexer isn't an idiot. He knows the two would try to kill each other before getting to them.

> "Such moronic fantasies, keep it to yourself."

@wordsofthespirits

[3/5]

[wordsofthespirits]

Robin remains skeptical of the cherries, but used his free hand to feed himself a cherry... before promptly pushing the bowl away. His expression contorted into slight disgust.

He probably doesn't like cherries. but this is plain rude...

🎵 ❝ ...Um... thank you? ❞ He still thanks Rexer and the anon.

*Gives you a bowl of fresh cherries*

> "I have no desire for these. As I said, I've grown used to not eating."

He merely offers the bowl to his fellow prisoner, looking rather uninterested in the contents of the bowl.

> "Eat. It's probably the best thing you'll end up eating, now that e are stuck like this."

At least he wasn't heartless to not feed him. So it seems. @wordsofthespirits [2/5]

[wordsofthespirits]

Fuck. Robin’s body goes rigid, the jolt of pain sharp as Rexer grabs his hair, yanking him back. He raises his hands, instinct taking over—but he does nothing. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t fight. Just stands there, breathing hard, trying to choke down the fury clawing up his throat. ❝ This world is not your place to meddle. ❞ The words grind out, his voice splintered, biting back the rage threatening to unravel him.

He pulls away, hissing at the sharp sting still prickling his scalp. Leave me alone, he thinks, the words curling like smoke, suffocating him, clawing up his throat—Leave me alone, he wants to scream. The need to shout it burning, tearing, searing into his silence, begging to break free.

There's a haunting voice that calls out to Robin. It's distant for only a moment. Then, it becomes louder. And louder... too loud for comfort.

> "Think fast—"

Of course, when you're going against a timekeeper of all things, you don't get the reaction time you properly need. A swift and hard gut punch was the reward Robin received as Rexer appeared before the other.

He's still that ever smug bastard. Arms crossed behind his back, almost like he never caused the other to double over. Tilting his head to the side, Rexer cooed quietly.

> "Still scrounging for answers on your little program? Or are you desperately searching for that brainless idiot Chase? I certainly hope he hasn't been getting into trouble."

His eye ever flickering, there's an awfully sinister smile this time around. Someone's just a few steps ahead of the other, and he's going to make it a living hell for the other in hopes of extracting information from the other.

( @protagonists-catastrophe )

🕒 ❝ Think fast—  ❞

The voice slices through the air, sharp, smug. Robin’s spine stiffens, his head snapping to find the source, but his stomach twists as soon as he sees who it is. Of course. Rexer. Always Rexer, showing up where he’s not wanted, prowling around, watching, grinning that infuriating grin. Robin turns his back, pointedly ignoring him, feeling his jaw clench. A low groan slips from his mouth, barely contained. He hates the sight of him, hates his smugness, his relentless presence—he’s just another bastard meddling where he shouldn’t. Always fixing things that don’t need to be fixed. Always one step ahead, looming like a shadow he can’t shake.

🎵 ❝ I’m fixing Chase...  ❞ Robin says, careful, vague. Just enough to make him leave, just enough to get Rexer to back off.

Please leave. The thought is desperate, simmering beneath his skin. Please leave me alone, he wants to say, but he bites down on the words, letting them fester in the silence, letting the anger burn quiet and controlled beneath his breath.

[wordsofthespirits]

[[ C.W: graphic description of blood and gore, derealization ]]

His tongue— he can’t feel it anymore. Just strange, foreign noises slipping out, noises he can’t recognize, noises that can’t possibly be his. His body is numb, cold, his fingers sticky and wet where he touches his mouth, blood seeping out, and he doesn’t understand. Doesn’t understand— There’s a crack, a shatter, a something he feels crawling along the edges of his mind, a split down his chest, a fissure through his thoughts like glass breaking apart. He feels it; he hears it in the quiet recesses of himself, a scream echoing through the fragments of what he once was, and he wonders if he’s made of glass. If he’s all edges and pieces and shards falling down, slipping through his own hands. No no no, he presses the parts back, clutching the fragments to his chest, begging them to hold, to stay together just long enough, just— His hands shake, his fingers reach, and it’s as if he’s trying to pick up what’s left of himself off the ground. Trying to snap himself back whole, just for a moment, just to keep his edges from crumbling completely. But he can feel it slipping. And there’s nothing left to hold onto.

Robin slumps, his body folding into itself, crumpling like paper, fragile like -porcelain shattering- a stray, abandoned dog. He's -fine- unconscious. There’s no more light, no more panic, no color. Just the slow, steady drain of blood, pulling him deeper, dragging him down, down, down into the cold. His hands are still twisted into claws, -useless claws- darkened and frozen in the shape of his last desperate attempt at control, at something, at anything. Now he’s -helpless- vulnerable, quiet, left like a doll with broken strings, for Rexer to pick up, to toy with. A thing to be rearranged, reshaped, like it doesn’t matter that this is him, that this is everything he is - or was.

"Rexerrr?~ I got you a present, my lord~"

>[Bartholomew has returned, currently wearing a disguise. Having taken the form of the very same man laying on the floor, having dropped out of the portal above. @wordsofthespirits ]

>[Of course, per usual, his face looks different, the inhumanly wide smile, the many eyes, that off behavior of his.]

>[ @deadworld-fakeprotagonist]

[Not counted as an event ask bc this is going to be a loooong ass thread between 3 folks (maybe). It was sent before yall did Rexer/Robin dirty. Sorry boys ; ×; ]

Rexer's head practically snapped to look over at the voice. Seeing such a familiar face, it alarmed the time keeper at first, but seeing the second body upon the floor, the [-PROTAGONIST-] was quick to clear up the assumption he made mentally.

> "If you call me that again, I won't hesitate to kill you. Do not call me that."

Seems like someone is still touchy about the name, but he can't stop anyone from. Calling him such things, he sadly does not have that power as much as he wished he could.

Looking at the man on the floor, Rexer narrowed his eyes. When he asked for information, he didn't mean bringing it physically here to his abode. That was going to be a problem if they noticed each other.

> "He can't stay here. We already have a guest here."

He makes the notion to Robin, who still lays unconscious from his prior experiences. It looks like he was in the middle of preparing what to do with the other until Bartholomew dropped in.

He didn't even thank or praise Bartholomew for his generous gift.

[wordsofthespirits]

[[ @protagonists-catastrophe @deadworld-fakeprotagonist (since I can't tag both during reblogs grr) ]]

❝ What... the hell... did you do to him?! ❞ Robin’s voice is barely a breath, barely a thread holding together. The tips of his hair glow with that strange, furious purple, like it’s alive— like his rage is dripping off him in waves, like it’s ripping out of him. But somewhere in all that fire, there's something else. Something almost curious, like he’s— intrigued. Does he even care? Does he even care about Chase, or what’s going to happen to him?

And yet, there's this sick fascination... Waiting in anguish for the answers of what might happen to his partner. His hair was pulled, and he's forced to look at the timekeeper, forced to stare at that multi-eyed thing beside him, at the way it grins, giggles at his reaction like it’s some kind of show. Like he’s entertainment. Like he's cattle. If it’s information they want—if this is about the program, then they’re going to get it. But not the easy way.

❝ You want to know more about the program? ❞ He leans forward, voice low, taunting. He keeps his eyes fixed on Rexer, ignoring the purple clone. Just that icy glare and a smirk that drips venom as he whispers,

❝ Or... maybe I’ll just bite my tongue. ❞ And he grins like he means it, like he’s one word away from tearing himself apart just to defy them.

"Rexerrr?~ I got you a present, my lord~"

>[Bartholomew has returned, currently wearing a disguise. Having taken the form of the very same man laying on the floor, having dropped out of the portal above. @wordsofthespirits ]

>[Of course, per usual, his face looks different, the inhumanly wide smile, the many eyes, that off behavior of his.]

>[ @deadworld-fakeprotagonist]

[Not counted as an event ask bc this is going to be a loooong ass thread between 3 folks (maybe). It was sent before yall did Rexer/Robin dirty. Sorry boys ; ×; ]

Rexer's head practically snapped to look over at the voice. Seeing such a familiar face, it alarmed the time keeper at first, but seeing the second body upon the floor, the [-PROTAGONIST-] was quick to clear up the assumption he made mentally.

> "If you call me that again, I won't hesitate to kill you. Do not call me that."

Seems like someone is still touchy about the name, but he can't stop anyone from. Calling him such things, he sadly does not have that power as much as he wished he could.

Looking at the man on the floor, Rexer narrowed his eyes. When he asked for information, he didn't mean bringing it physically here to his abode. That was going to be a problem if they noticed each other.

> "He can't stay here. We already have a guest here."

He makes the notion to Robin, who still lays unconscious from his prior experiences. It looks like he was in the middle of preparing what to do with the other until Bartholomew dropped in.

He didn't even thank or praise Bartholomew for his generous gift.

[wordsofthespirits]

Before Bartholomew even has a chance to answer, a low groan snakes through the room, footsteps shifting and shuffling somewhere close, too close. Robin blinks, sits up straighter, his vision sharpening as he takes in the scene. Oh, fuck. Where’s his lighter. He feels his heart race -tighten- squeeze until he’s gasping for air, hands patting down his pockets before he finally remembers— 🎵 ❝ Of course you steal it. ❞ The words slip out like a snarl, his gaze snapping to Rexer, -burning- seething. And then he notices it. That multi-eyed creature standing there. Staring. He barely spares it a second glance, dismissing it as a bug, just another nuisance brought into this mess. His gaze shifts back, locks onto Rexer again, cutting through the purple man’s presence like he’s little more than fog in the air. 🎵❝ What now? ❞ he spits, a smirk twisting his mouth into something almost feral, almost mocking.

🎵 ❝ You’ll whip me into shape, timekeeper? ❞ And he says it like he’s not one himself, like he’s not already bound to this maddening existence by default.

"Rexerrr?~ I got you a present, my lord~"

>[Bartholomew has returned, currently wearing a disguise. Having taken the form of the very same man laying on the floor, having dropped out of the portal above. @wordsofthespirits ]

>[Of course, per usual, his face looks different, the inhumanly wide smile, the many eyes, that off behavior of his.]

>[ @deadworld-fakeprotagonist]

[Not counted as an event ask bc this is going to be a loooong ass thread between 3 folks (maybe). It was sent before yall did Rexer/Robin dirty. Sorry boys ; ×; ]

Rexer's head practically snapped to look over at the voice. Seeing such a familiar face, it alarmed the time keeper at first, but seeing the second body upon the floor, the [-PROTAGONIST-] was quick to clear up the assumption he made mentally.

> "If you call me that again, I won't hesitate to kill you. Do not call me that."

Seems like someone is still touchy about the name, but he can't stop anyone from. Calling him such things, he sadly does not have that power as much as he wished he could.

Looking at the man on the floor, Rexer narrowed his eyes. When he asked for information, he didn't mean bringing it physically here to his abode. That was going to be a problem if they noticed each other.

> "He can't stay here. We already have a guest here."

He makes the notion to Robin, who still lays unconscious from his prior experiences. It looks like he was in the middle of preparing what to do with the other until Bartholomew dropped in.

He didn't even thank or praise Bartholomew for his generous gift.

[wordsofthespirits]

Robin feels the weight pressing down, crushing him, squeezing the strength from his veins, leaving him hollow. He’s weak, body sagging, going -limp- useless. But he lifts his hand anyway, raises a claw, just one, just enough to -threaten- promise Rexer.

❝ Wait until the others see this. ❞ The words slip like smoke, dissipating, empty of threat, a hollow shell of a sentence. He’s not even sure it’s real, not sure if he even meant it.

He drops. Crumbles. He’s gone, sinking into the floor, his consciousness fading out like he was never awake at all.

Vulnerable. Helpless. Left to whatever twisted ideas Rexer is holding in his twisted mind.

There's a haunting voice that calls out to Robin. It's distant for only a moment. Then, it becomes louder. And louder... too loud for comfort.

> "Think fast—"

Of course, when you're going against a timekeeper of all things, you don't get the reaction time you properly need. A swift and hard gut punch was the reward Robin received as Rexer appeared before the other.

He's still that ever smug bastard. Arms crossed behind his back, almost like he never caused the other to double over. Tilting his head to the side, Rexer cooed quietly.

> "Still scrounging for answers on your little program? Or are you desperately searching for that brainless idiot Chase? I certainly hope he hasn't been getting into trouble."

His eye ever flickering, there's an awfully sinister smile this time around. Someone's just a few steps ahead of the other, and he's going to make it a living hell for the other in hopes of extracting information from the other.

( @protagonists-catastrophe )

🕒 ❝ Think fast—  ❞

The voice slices through the air, sharp, smug. Robin’s spine stiffens, his head snapping to find the source, but his stomach twists as soon as he sees who it is. Of course. Rexer. Always Rexer, showing up where he’s not wanted, prowling around, watching, grinning that infuriating grin. Robin turns his back, pointedly ignoring him, feeling his jaw clench. A low groan slips from his mouth, barely contained. He hates the sight of him, hates his smugness, his relentless presence—he’s just another bastard meddling where he shouldn’t. Always fixing things that don’t need to be fixed. Always one step ahead, looming like a shadow he can’t shake.

🎵 ❝ I’m fixing Chase...  ❞ Robin says, careful, vague. Just enough to make him leave, just enough to get Rexer to back off.

Please leave. The thought is desperate, simmering beneath his skin. Please leave me alone, he wants to say, but he bites down on the words, letting them fester in the silence, letting the anger burn quiet and controlled beneath his breath.

[wordsofthespirits]

[[ t.w.: blood. ]]

Robin feels it—a crushing, suffocating tightness in his chest. It’s overwhelming, like his heart is trapped in a shrinking box, like it’s going to implode-implode-implode-implode-implode-implode in on itself, collapsing, compressing, squeezing until there’s nothing left.

He’s coughing now, hacking, gasping as his lungs start to give out, as if the air itself has turned against him. He’s always been the weakest among the [[6E68746C2074687A616C797A]] [ERROR. WORD OF THE SPIRIT=UNDEFINED. NO CLEARANCE LEVEL.] ❝ What... ❞ he rasps, choking on every syllable. ❝ What did you... do to me?! ❞

He clutches his chest, the weakness spreading, crawling through his veins like poison. He lifts his gaze, desperate, falling to his knees, eyes locked on the timekeeper, helpless. Helpless. Helpless. Helpless.

There's a haunting voice that calls out to Robin. It's distant for only a moment. Then, it becomes louder. And louder... too loud for comfort.

> "Think fast—"

Of course, when you're going against a timekeeper of all things, you don't get the reaction time you properly need. A swift and hard gut punch was the reward Robin received as Rexer appeared before the other.

He's still that ever smug bastard. Arms crossed behind his back, almost like he never caused the other to double over. Tilting his head to the side, Rexer cooed quietly.

> "Still scrounging for answers on your little program? Or are you desperately searching for that brainless idiot Chase? I certainly hope he hasn't been getting into trouble."

His eye ever flickering, there's an awfully sinister smile this time around. Someone's just a few steps ahead of the other, and he's going to make it a living hell for the other in hopes of extracting information from the other.

( @protagonists-catastrophe )

🕒 ❝ Think fast—  ❞

The voice slices through the air, sharp, smug. Robin’s spine stiffens, his head snapping to find the source, but his stomach twists as soon as he sees who it is. Of course. Rexer. Always Rexer, showing up where he’s not wanted, prowling around, watching, grinning that infuriating grin. Robin turns his back, pointedly ignoring him, feeling his jaw clench. A low groan slips from his mouth, barely contained. He hates the sight of him, hates his smugness, his relentless presence—he’s just another bastard meddling where he shouldn’t. Always fixing things that don’t need to be fixed. Always one step ahead, looming like a shadow he can’t shake.

🎵 ❝ I’m fixing Chase...  ❞ Robin says, careful, vague. Just enough to make him leave, just enough to get Rexer to back off.

Please leave. The thought is desperate, simmering beneath his skin. Please leave me alone, he wants to say, but he bites down on the words, letting them fester in the silence, letting the anger burn quiet and controlled beneath his breath.