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She calmly layed down on the spare bed she had in one of the upstairs rooms. She left her room door open just incase they needed her for anything.. it was the middle of the night. She was pretty sure the others had went out for drinks or something. She layed down quietly turning her light out
(All good)
*there was a bang on one of the walls suddenly. It started slow but kept getting louder, no one was home but would be soon, the banging just kept getting louder and louder. Behind Hailey sat a dead looking girl with wide eyed and a vacant stare*
Clarke's Third Law, Addiction to Magic, Cosmic Horror, Fatalism, Living in The Past, Individualism, Unresolved Grief, Abandonment, Emotional Manipulation, The Reality of Never Going Home Again, Transcendence, Koyaanisqatsi ( Life out of Balance ) and Resisting Fate.
𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐑 . PERFORMER . ENTERTAINERinde portrayal of the 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐙𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈 !MINORS DNI . 18+ CONTENT . GAY MUSE !
A FLAMBOYANT FLAIR , HE STRUTS THROUGH LIFE WITH A DEVIL - MAY - CARE ATTITUDE , HIS EVERY MOVE CALCULATED TO DAZZLE AND DISTRACT . BENEATH THE JESTER'S MASK LIES A SHARP MIND , ALWAYS QUICK WITH A JOKE OR A BITING REMARK , HIS WORDS CUTTING THROUGH THE AIR WITH A PRECISION THAT BELIES HIS PLAYFUL EXTERIOR .
RULES . ICON | HEADER . MEMES
written by . AMANDA
𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃
OOOHHH YEYEAAHH
𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 . CHARMER . PERFORMER
inde portrayal of THE DASHING AND EXTREMELY SEXY MUSCLE !
MINORS DNI . 18+ CONTENT . PAN MUSE ! A SMOOTH-TALKING, FLASHY SHARK WITH A KNACK FOR GETTING WHAT HE WANTS— AT LEAST, THAT’S WHAT HE’D HAVE YOU BELIEVE.
HEADER . MEMES
written by . AMANDA
[From dissociation prompts] “How long have you been sitting here?”
@angie-long-legs
[ Starter for @angie-long-legs 🕸️ ]
Approaching footsteps halted, without lending a tiny hint disclosing whom they belonged to. Out here in the marshes behind the Hotel, it usually was not a choice ever realised to check out as a safe place.
Allowed to come and go as he pleased, Alastor's reputation an effective warning to keep their prying eyes elsewhere. The boundaries of the marshlands that he fondly attributed to a private sanctuary, might as well be limitless - Alastor couldn't recall the last time he had disappeared deeper into the bayou. Reminiscent of the Before-Times: before the world had turned black like a curtain drawing shut to block out the theatre spotlights, despite the familiarity to the real swamplands the 'sun' itself here was one of the major anomalies. It just struck him as oddly different, yet the same. A blood-red hue. That much was recognised. The pentagram was overlooked as a fantasy, a ridiculous fancy.
Sitting on the lid of a very weathered leather trunk, an iron padlock hooked through the hasp, the shank locked. Back to the gatecrasher, the radio-demon neglected to answer, although he acknowledged the sightseer with a curt nod; however he remained facing the marshes. The picturesque moment was incomplete - Alastor's staff was nowhere in sight.
Hardly moving, there were a few conspicuous details that indicated the scene was unusual, even considering the despondent radio-show host's gruesome past-times.
A large portion of the trunk was positively soaked in old blood, the dark red and brown stains adding a charming rustic aesthetic to it's age. In spite of it's ancient history the trunk's fastenings held it together securely, the luggage definitely had seen better days. It was a relic, the design and construction not accredited to Hell.
Most peculiar wasn't the bloodstained steamer trunk - shoulders heaving, at length the radio-demon shifted on the lid. Turning to face Angel, lifting his eyes to contemplate the trespasser, brows knitted together as he studied the odd-looking stranger. Resentment edged his answer, enunciated as a newsworthy revelation.
"The blood won't come off. I'll be caught. The blood--a mess--this is SICKENING."
Alastor continued to shiver, wringing his hands incessantly - irritated, interlacing his fingers time and again like there was dirt to wipe clean. What's more, the radio-demon had been very meticulous in his fool's errand; cuffs undone to roll back his sleeves, undeterred by the reality his skin was anything but bloodied, no gore on his person.
she calmly went back to the hell house at night. She had a tape recorder this time to get anything she heard on video tape. So she had actual evidence it happened. She climbed in through a window and looked around
*it was quiet not really a single sound could be heard. Everyone was basically out and wouldn’t be back till later. Well besides Paul who was currently setting up more lights and fixing up Cameras . He was humming to him, unaware of everything that was happening in the basement*
an original character crafted for the hazbin hotel verse , but with the horror , and supernatural verses in mind . adult themes such as ; drinking , drug abuse , sex , gore , and others will be present on this account . minors , do not interact . DEAD DOVE ; DO NOT EAT . highly selective , literate , and detailed writer who is over the age of twenty-one . read more about my code of conduct here .
alexis johanna camila monet , or simply known by her stage name ; alexis , is hell’s top singer-songwriter , descending into it’s fiery pits in 1994 . read more about my character here .
come write with me on twitter ( @princesscfpop ) ! discord writing available upon request . askbox always open . i follow back from theyhatejosie . this is a role-playing side blog .
"You say that like I gave you no other choice ♥️" Oz'keli replies, biting her lip as two of her eyes glide all over Sir Pentious' form. He is as handsome as she remembers him to be! Obviously, they should be together. Both of them are snakes! And she is so so so strong, so why is he not interested?
He must be gay. That's it. It's never that hard for her to seduce someone, but the more he resists, the more she wants to wrap around him! How annoying.
Cue some eyelashes batting.
"But actually, pleasure is not why I'm here tonight. I'm here because I have the contraband you requested, and our dealer couldn't make it, so he sent me instead. Be nice." The black mamba snake-tail raised to hand level, tongue flicking out with a hiss at Pentious. Oz'keli shushed it gently, long red-painted claws scratching idly at its head.