#anyway to those who were making fun of Cats in the MoB - eat shit

[itsmyregularcat]

Visited New York City for the first time last week, so I took the opportunity to visit the Museum Of Broadway because I only wanted to see the Cats display items and literally nothing else.

If anyone is interested, this is what they had for Cats. Two super cool costume pieces from the long running and record breaking production from the Winter Garden, plus a few other items.

First off, an elaborate Siamese costume in all its bright blue eyed glory:

A few framed display items, including an early playbill and six character designs.

Secondly, an absolutely stunning complete Gumbie Tap costume worn by Anna McNeely, originator of Jennyanydots on Broadway.

While both of those costumes were amazing, and I could have stared at them for hours, it was really disappointing to see the museum have so little Cats content given the shows significance to theaters in not only NYC, but in North America as a whole.

The Siamese was relegated to a corner of a non-related room, and the Tap costume was amongst a line-up of other (I believe, Phantom Of The Opera) costumes. I do understand that there is a section encompassing Andrew Lloyd Webber's impact on Broadway, which had a sizable PoTO representation and some pieces from Evita, Starlight Express, and Sunset Boulevard with some other stuff from that time period mixed in, but it was a bit of a letdown.

It is very possible that the MoB could not source more pieces, which if in that case, it is all fair. However, it is tiring to always see Cats made out to be some sort of unimportant or regrettable musical, and even the way the two costumes were shown reflected that. They could have easily had their day in the sun together with an expanded corner of all Cats stuff together, but maybe I am being pompous. Though, being a patron in the museum and hearing all the utter disgust and derision in the looks and voices of others seeing the Cats stuff reinforced the hatred theatre wankers have over the singing and dancing kitties. Plus, maybe just maybe, I verbally pushed back against someone shitting on Cats while I was admiring the Siamese, and let me tell you, he did not expect that at all.

If anyone has any questions about the museum, let me know. I took pictures of every room and every display item (not to the same caliber of the Cats stuff, but still). It was a very nice place with lots of pieces and history, and if I actually cared about any other musical, it would have been like visiting the Heavisde Layer itself. The Siamese and Gumbie Tap costumes were damn cool though.

[shoichee]

omg cngrts on 100!!!! <3 u deserve it!!!! hii how are you??? ahaha hows genshin going for you?? also for ur milstone event, can i request kise ryota with prompt 19 or 20, i cant decide between the two, so ill leaave it to you!! <3 i hope youre doing well 💖💖💖💖

dhfiuseyghieaugh tysm ily reeeeee <33 been playing genshin nonstop to keep my sanity from my uni papers SEND HELP

Kise x Reader

19. “I think I’m in love with you, and that scares the crap out of me”

Word Count: 2851

prompt list here

Note: we need more manga Kise, i repeat, we need more asshole Kise

»»—————　☼　—————««

How could this happen? How could he, the veteran of receiving female attention, be so careless?

He only saw you as an intrigue. A challenge. Perhaps a friend at the very most.

How did this happen?

Kise slightly grits his teeth before he quickly exhales, bringing his hand to rub out the tension in his neck. His mood had not gone unnoticed by his fans around him.

Ah, shit.

“Ryōta!” one called out, her tone dripped in saccharine. “What’s wrong?”

“Have you been pushing yourself lately?” another one chimes in.

“I can come with you to the infirmary… surely you’d have trouble!—”

“Move—I asked first!”

“H-hey! Quit being so snappy—!”

“Stop.”

He instinctively sends a glare at the mob out of irritation but then stops himself to quickly etch a sweet smile of his own for them. No matter how much he hears these words of concern, he hears nothing but empty wind. Hanging around girls was supposed to be a fun pastime. A challenge. Nowadays, his mind doesn’t bother to register any of their names, their faces. All their voices that come out of their mouth have become constantly replayed recaps; their chatters have become equivalent to those of flocking pigeons. “Don’t worry, everyone! Basketball practice has just been tough, is all. You’re all so kind to worry for my health, though! Thank you!”

Squeals rang throughout the courtyard as they hung onto his every word. Predictable.

As he firmly separates himself away from the group and leaves off with a cheerful facade, he quickly turns around to make a break with a brisk walk. Where to, exactly? He doesn’t know, but anywhere that didn’t have people around would be godsend.

His mind always returns back to you. You, who he thought would be the cure to his social life, just as Aomine and Kuroko were to his life of sports. You, who respected his personal space. You, whom he had meaningful conversations with during breaks sometimes. You, who he felt like he can drop his facades around recently and just entirely be himself.

As cruel as it was, he once challenged himself to make you fall for him. A sick, twisted game that would cure his boredom and give him something to look forward to other than practice. Something to keep him on his toes throughout the beginning of high school. You, who wasn’t honestly that special, other than the fact you treated him differently, unlike other people. Hell, even the adults are wrapped around his finger. What’s not making you fall head over heels for him? His curiosity continues to grow exponentially the more he spends time with you; never once did it get satiated.

Was it his ego that you bruised up? Was it his competitiveness kicking in at the thought of experiencing a type of “defeat?” Was it the unsaid uncertainty in his heart that is currently panicking of the thought of entering a whole new territory with new emotions and thoughts?

There is nothing special about you. You were only a challenge. There is nothing special about you. Once he figures you out, your game, you would just be like everyone els—

“Ow!”

“Ah, sorry! My bad, my bad! Are you alright? I’ve been a tad dizzy lately, here let me help you, oh…” As he rambles in a slight fluster, he immediately jumps back into his chivalrous side, immediately clasping a hand to help them up. Expecting to see another faceless individual, his eyes widened when his mind registered a pair of eyes staring inquisitively at him. Your eyes.

“Are you the same Ryōta I know?” you stifle a laugh. “Since when were you so quick to ever help me out without complaining my ear off?” When they say his first name, it has always sounded off, sickening even. He still could not comprehend why he, despite hating the sound of his first name rolling off of people’s tongues, insisted on you using his first name. Strangely, whenever you call him out so sincerely, he couldn’t help but always jerk back in genuine surprise at how… nice it felt.

He only let you use his first name to force a sense of closeness. This was only to accelerate the forming of a bond between the two of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Nothing more than a challenge. Nothing more than an asset to accomplish it.

But every time he has had these thoughts lately, his heart spiked with painful palpitations.

How did this happen?

His swirling thoughts halt when he feels your hand against his forehead. “You said you were dizzy earlier, right?” you said worriedly. “You don’t seem sick… have you been eating properly?”

You were tippy-toeing to try to reach his height, one hand grasping his shoulder for support while the other was feeling his temperature. And oh, you were so close.

This was a game you were playing, too, right? You must’ve known this entanglement was all just a challenge and you wanted to play along for the fun of it, right? But these thoughts quickly cease as you separate yourself from him to give him the usual physical distance.

What sort of game were you playing? Tug-of-war? Cat-and-mouse chase? Two can play at that game.

“Hey…” he looms over your figure, leaning closer to your face. “Maybe you’re the one making me dizzy, after all?” His sharp eyes search for any subtle signs you give off: your facial expressions, body language, your reactions.

“What?” Your eyes widen at his abrupt advance, worried eyes quickly turning into one of confusion as you scan Kise’s face for any other subtle signs of his own.

There was no way you could have good intentions. There was no way you could have genuine concern for him. There was no way you would be hanging around with him, unless you had some ulterior motives of your own.

After all, he chose to get to know you for the most selfish reason. How could he ever bring himself to tell you that this precarious friendship you two shared was built on the premise of deceit on his end?

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “Just wanted to see your reaction.” And with that, he ruffles your hair playfully before he continues to walk to his intended destination of the school infirmary.

“You’re definitely sick!” you call out, rushing to catch up to him. “You’re acting really strange!...” Your voice—he wishes he could tune it out just as easily as the rest, but you were right… he was acting strange. He couldn’t believe he can distinguish your features from amidst a sea of people. Your voice amidst a clutter of noises. Your warmth amidst all the sunlight, clothing, and body heat he’s ever felt. The same warmth encapsulating his own hand.

What sort of game were you playing?

“Here! Follow me,” you said, tugging his hand forward as you take the initiative to lead him. “If you’re sick, you shouldn’t be walking around alone. What if you collapse?”

What sort of game were you playing?... Was having the most scrunched-up brows and worried eyes part of the rules? He tightens his lips into a thin line at the sensation of his heartbeats again.

As you tug along his hand and lead him down the hallway, his mind drifts to the moments you two have shared for the past few weeks. When you bumped into him and succinctly apologized before excusing yourself… when he approached you constantly every chance he got during breaks to figure you out… when he saw you efficiently defending yourself against his dedicated fans… when you first approached him after he exited the lockers to congratulate him on a home game win before you turned to Kasamatsu to talk of club affairs with the council… when he first heard you actively cheering his name on the stands… when you inopportunely saw him weeping about Kaijo’s loss at the Winter Cup and successfully comforted him…

With each progression in his thoughts, his hand suddenly feels warmer against yours, his heart rate thumping faster, his eyes growing more out of focus as he gazes at your back, and then your intertwined hands. Maybe he really is sick.

“Are you alright?” you asked, turning to face him as you both keep walking. “We’re just about here.”

He says nothing as he keeps his face straight ahead. He doesn't trust himself to keep it together after that slipup with his fans; messing up in front of you would be certainly disastrous.

“Is there anyone here?” you softly called out, tentatively sliding the doors open. There was no one, but they were probably on a lunch break before coming back soon. He hears you sigh before you tug him in completely into the room. “Sit here, and I’ll look for some ice packs, at least… I don’t know if that would work, though…”

As you let go of his hand to try to rummage through the drawers, his hand instinctively holds you tighter.

Shit.

“Ryōta?...” you said. “Do you wanna lay down instead, I’ll look for something for you to—”

“... (y/n)-cchi, stay here.”

Shit. Kasamatsu was right: he needs to learn how to shut his godamn mouth.

“Ryōta,” you shyly mumble. “That was the first time you addressed me with -cchi at the end. Don’t you only use it with your old teammates?”

Shit… shit, shit, shit.

He can’t slip up, and he’s fucking up three times in a row? He’s losing his edge. There’s no way he’ll lose now… not when he’s come so far.

“... Do you know what you’re doing?” he exhales, dropping your hand to run his hands through his locks. “You’re driving me insane…”

“Me?”

“What games are you playing here, I swear to god—there’s no reason for you to care this much for me like this—”

“I do have a reason,” you replied, averting your eyes to feign looking for those ice packs. There you go again, acting coy… that’s what he chants to himself anyways.

“Wha?~ You’re keeping secrets from your friend, already?” he coos, trying to gain back the momentum. Yes, that’s right…you are only considered a friend. “It’s kind of cruel to bring it up but then decide to not divulge them, y’know?”

“It doesn’t take much human decency to worry and care for another,” you smile. “Even more so for a friend.”

You finally turn away to continue hunting for anything useful in the cabinets, while Kise silently watches you from his chair. Silence settles between the two of you.

“Y’know… I’ve been thinking,” you start, handing him a glass of water, a wet towel, and ice packs. “I don’t want for us… to be friends anymore.”

It took his entire self control to not jump from his chair to grab you and interrogate you into oblivion. But why? Did you realize his true intentions? Did you hate his guts after all? Did you accomplish your own objectives and deem this friendship no longer useful?

Why does he even care about any of this?

“You’re… joking, right?”

He really expected for you to burst into laughter and call it a prank or tease him about his unfiltered reaction at your words, but your eyes have now become determined and very serious.

You weren’t joking.

“Ryōta, I’ll just get this out of the way first things first, but I know that you only see me as some type of trophy to go after… for a while now.”

How did this happen?

“It’s just the way you look at me sometimes seems off,” you said. “It’s not obvious to others, but we’ve spent almost every day with each other for a while, so I’ve kinda noticed… Honestly, that only solidified my initial impressions of you being a complete asshole.”

Why does his heart feel like it’s going to shatter?

“But…” you continued. “Recently, you were just… different. You were still stupid, sure. But you’ve laughed so much more and supported me when I needed it most. I’ve never laughed this hard until I met you—you make me wheeze out the ugliest laughs, as I’m ashamed to admit. But I want to be able to support you too… like, it feels that this whole thing you’re trying to put up when you meet with other people… it must be exhausting, right? I know you first acted that way with me. I can understand and kind of relate to that, so you can always talk to me alone if you need an ear.”

“Why are you telling me that you don’t want to be friends anymore?” Kise flatly asks. “You’re clearly correct about everything about me. You could’ve just left a long while ago. Did you have to pretend to care, too? Go ahead, aren’t you going to gossip about this to everyone?”

“What? No! I’m not done talking yet, idiot! I wasn’t pretending anything! Can you just stop projecting yourself onto me and listen up? Even though you’re such an asshole sometimes, er—all the time, the time we spent together has grown to be genuine, and I know you felt it too!... so well, I know you’ve heard these words so many times from other people, but…

I like you. That’s why I don’t want to be just your friend anymore. But I know you don’t reciprocate these back, so I just wanna tell you to get it off my chest… that’s all.”

He is absolutely stunned.

You’ve confessed to him, didn’t you? He got what he wanted. He won his little challenge. But why doesn’t he feel the adrenaline, the excitement, of it all like he normally would? His heart beated painfully erratically like how his team suffered a bittersweet loss at the games. Especially when you turned away to leave after you gauged his silence as rejection.

“(y/n)-cchi! W-wait!” He fumbles to grab for the warmth of your hand again. “You just confessed, right? Don’t you have to hear what I say?”

You simply shrug in response, but nonetheless, you turned back around to face him and await his response.

What you didn’t expect though was for him to pull you into a tight embrace and put his head on your shoulder. He pours his innermost thoughts and his emotions out, your shoulder slightly muffling his words, but you still understand everything he had spilled. He finally apologizes for everything he’s done, reassuring you that you don’t have to forgive him, though you kept telling him that it wasn’t that big of a deal. He finally breaks away from you and hangs his head low and exhales. He finally lifts his head to make eye contact with you. His eyes burn with intensity and the usual confidence he bears, although you note the tinge of nervousness behind his pupils.

How did this happen? How did he ever grow so attached to you? And since when did he grow mature enough to concede his defeat?

“I think I’m in love with you…” His words trail off, and his confidence disintegrates away when he realizes that he is no longer the receiving end of a confession.

… and that scares… the crap out of me.”

“You think you’re in love with me?” You stare at him incredulously. Kise squirms uncomfortably under your scrutiny. He’ll admit it, it was the lamest reply anyone could’ve given. You honestly deserved better.

His thoughts were interrupted when you suddenly guffawed and slapped your hands to your mouth to try to stifle your hysteria.

“Hey! I spilled my entire heart to you, don’t just laugh… damnit, hey! It’s not that funny!...” he protests, but after unsuccessfully trying to get you to stop snickering, he sulks back into his chair and huffs with the reddest face.

“Ah… A+ for honesty, at least,” you breathed out. “I thought you were gonna be eloquent about this, since you’re used to this sorta stuff and all…”

“Shut it.”

Kise buries his head into his hands, but you gently pry them off in an attempt to see his embarrassed state.

“Were you really actually sick, though?~”

“Shut uuuup, alreadyyy.”

“I inherited this personality from you, y’know.”

Huh, it seems that you really do know how to be coy, after all.

“Can you two please see yourselves out? The infirmary is not a place to hold your secret rendezvous, especially with this inappropriate behavior.”

“(y/n)-cchi, run!”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!”

In a hurry, Kise grabs hold of your hand and makes a break out the door, dragging you behind with the school nurse trailing far behind. Even if he suffered a loss once again, he still won the complete monopoly of you and your genuine care and warmth for him.

Was it really a loss, though? He doesn’t think much of it now that his head feels clear when he shares these moments with you.

He supposes he misjudged you when you were truly special after all. Déjà vu just hits him like a truck when he fondly thinks about his ex-mentor Kuroko, and how similar you are to him.

[shadowtongued]

DISCLAIMER; THIS HAS BEEN IN THE MAKING SINCE DEC 2017, I was just too shy to post it. Keep in mind that I'm not in any way, shape, or form trying to put my headcanons or interpretation of lore over anyone else's and this is pretty much just a general long-form run down for my roleplay blog to help people who aren't familiar with RS, so for my non-RS friends it's more of an explanation of how this 'tall ancient magic alien man' is and works. Physiology and some other cultural blurbs with the occasional emphasis on Sliske, because, well, that's what my roleplay blog is for. This is also mostly a passion project since I'm pretty fixated on this, if you read this at all, kudos to you and ily, ty for coming to my Ted Talk about this. Special thanks to people/friends who put up with me ranting abt this obscure fandom and helped me flesh out headcanons, and @theresiidentdevil  the artwork that i commissioned that i use way too much bc devil really... really did my version of snek man nice. Other imgs used are scrounged from ja.gex’s concept arts and etc. ONCE AGAIN THIS IS NOT CANON, AND JUST MY PERSONAL HYPOTHESIS, feel free to reblog but please don’t like... edit or try to give me heavy crit or come @ me with some lore bit from so-and-sos tweet that I am wrong and am a doodoo head or something. This was just a spot o’ fun and please don’t try to drag my interpretation or expunge this for laughs on the official lore discord. I’ve seen it done before and it’s not cool. individual creative interpretation is beautiful, mob bullying is not.

To kick things off, the Mahjarrat are one of a few ancient tribes that live on the ash, lava, and stone wasteland that makes up the dead planet of Freneskae. They are highly skilled in magic and intellect by nature, as well as living by a firm form of kratocracy; a government by those who are strong enough to seize power through coercive power, social persuasion, or deceptive cunning. Along with this, their survival revolves around two rituals, one of death and sacrifice, the other of life and breeding. That right there should tell you a LOT about them, socially.  

HEIGHT.

Height varies from Mahjarrat to Mahjarrat, they are always going to be towering over most species, and most humans, as lore states that they generally are 1.5x the average human height. Sans that one wild ass gene of hyper height that makes gargantuan Mahjarrat like Lucien and Zemoregal, who tower over even Azzanadra's spike pope hat. Sliske himself stands at an 8′4 height, but that's just my headcanon for this blog's sake.

SKULLS / BONES.

The Mahjarrat have thick skulls, if this wasn't pretty obvious with the additions of dual lines of bony ridges running parallel from the brow to back of the skull, and lower. Some, but not all individuals have rather, short horns as their 'first ridge' before normal ridges. They also seem to have a subtle browbone ridge above each eye. Sliske, as well as some of the canon Mahjarrat we know, have these short horns and I like to exaggerate them a bit as sharp and more obvious, because who doesn't love horns? I'd imagine there are also ridges across other parts of their bodies such as the shoulders, elbows, knees, smaller ones on the knuckles, and perhaps down the back and along the hips. Go wild. Anyways, their skulls are thick and heavy, as in if it comes down to having to head-butt someone at the sacrificial ritual as a last resort physical conflict when magic is exhausted, someone is going to be using every exploit they can to survive. Anything counts when your life is on the line. 

*above concept art is of their lich-like forms. good for seeing skull shapes.

Most also have rather large jawbones and powerful jaw muscles, and have a decent bite force to clamp down; like above, can and will use the force of their jaws if they have to with a good 1,069 psi (pounds per square inch), a little less than a hyena, meaning they can break bones with enough force. The main reasoning for this is their powerful mandible adductor muscles and the leverage needed to keep their jaw closed in their lich-like forms with the loss of skin and some atrophy, when they begin to run low on energy before every 500 years ( more on this later ), otherwise their toothy jaws would be hanging open and they'd look quite silly. It's quite rare for a Mahjarrat to bite unless as a last resort attack, out of spite when healthy ( almost as if saying 'you are weak and aren't worth the waste of magical energy' ), or for other minute reasons. Males tend to have very pronounced 'spikes' on their chins and larger skull ridges, but it's not completely unheard of a female having a 'spiked' chin and larger ridges. Sexual dimorphism isn’t too well explained or solidified by Jagex, we haven’t really seen much due to the few living Mahjarrat we see.

TEETH / CONSUMPTION.

personal interpretation of sliske’s teeth here.

Speaking of teeth, Mahjarrat have exceedingly sharp teeth for being part of a race that is not carnivorous or needing any sustenance at all. They have more teeth than humans (not really canon, just my personal interpretation, I prefer them being very Alien over ‘grey human reskin’); while almost every tooth has a sharpness to it, be it incisors or tines in the molars. Their front teeth seem to be ridged with smaller points, you probably don't want to get nipped by them, even if it's just playful or affectionate (uh, whatever they deem as affection). It's a real shame that Sliske seems to enjoy this, in the few moments he puts on a faux air of affection to scratch an itch or when deciding to use seduction as a ploy to further his manipulation or intel gathering, among other rare, convoluted feelings towards someone he's 'affectionate' with. Teeth shape and sizes can vary due to the Mahjarrat way of breeding and eugenics to create survivability through offspring on what traits work. Basic Darwinism, tbh. Following my ever favorite serpent motif for Sliske, you can expect his teeth to be pretty ophidian/snake-like. Due to my headcanon to their dark blood color, Mahjarrats may have dark or black gums. Small addition: babs do have sharp defensive baby teeth that fall out into hellish adult ones. Nice.

Mahjarrat do not need to eat or drink, as they are fueled fully by an arcane energy that they receive from rituals, and slowly deplete this over several centuries. Their power can last even longer if an individual is stingy with their power, or unaware of their power like Kharshai, who spent several centuries in a human guise hardly using any energy while unaware he was even a Mahjarrat. Despite not needing sustenance, it's not unheard of for Mahjarrat to attempt eating or drinking for whatever reason, be it pleasure or to emulate others. Hazeel's memories almost adorably describe some Mahjarrat attempting to sit and politely eat with humans to 'bond with them', despite them later having to regurgitate what they had eaten and Hazeel's repulsion at any creature eating at all. Several lore snippets include Zamorak enjoying wine and in Kindred Spirits, Sliske making the comment he may be drunk after downing the contents of a bottle. Whether or not they actually can become inebriated or have any sort of digestive system to even mildly uptake anything is debatable. For headcanon's sake, I like to think Sliske has no issue with pleasure eating and for taste, especially chocolate, fully knowing he'll have to bring it back up later. Most Mahjarrat have tongues that can be dark in color to only slightly brighter due to their dark blood color. Like horns, some end up with a slightly bifurcated tongue tip, some do not and have a single, sharp tip. Sliske is an extreme mutated case and has a very obvious black, snake-like, forked tongue. Just don’t ask him to do the thip thip because he won’t.

(WHERE’D YA GET THOSE) EYES / SENSES.

Usually, A Mahjarrat's eyes correspond to the color of the jewel embedded in their crown, but not always. They have very, keen eyes and their eyesight is exceptional to suit the darkness of Freneskae due to the constant ashfall and cloud cover. They can see short distances, but farther into heavy smoke and ash than most species, and can indeed see in the dark with excellent night vision and have a structure similar to an animal's tapetum lucidem, which is what reflects light and makes that eerie glare you see from animals in the dark. Due to spending a lot of time on Freneskae and being well adapted to that environment, it was quite a jolt for them to get accustomed to sunlight on Gielinor when brought during the Menaphite War, as they were used to heavy 'cloudy' weather due to ash blocking out what light they did get, and being used to the constant lightning strikes and the glow of volcanic rifts and lava pools. But they adapt quite well and while they still prefer muted lights, they have no problem in the sunlight after adjusting a bit. Think of when it’s a sunny summer day and you leave your dark house and how for a few minutes you have to acclimate. Sliske has the most trouble with this, seeing as he still spends quite some time in the darkness of the Shadow Realm which is hazy and muted in light. He's quite prone to straining and headaches/migraines from bright lights on Gielinor ( and Earth since a lot of my writing takes place on Modern Earth ).

Mahjarrat have fairly acute senses and sharp ears, and while most concept art shows them similar to human ears, why not lorge, sharp, and pointy ( as not to be so human )? Plus, imagine a few with larger, pointed ones that flick when irritated. That's cute, but deadly. They can hear fairly well and can hear you talking shit. Not exactly up to par with a bat or a moth, but quite up there with horses or cats. I'd imagine the rest of their senses are pretty keen despite not using taste or smell as much as a human, but most senses are still fairly above a human’s.

I'm not exactly sure how they'd fare in the aspect of touch, but it is known that they are very, very strong and can break bones with their bare hands. They have exceptional strength in their bodies and despite teleporting some ways, I'll bet most of them are decently muscular or lean under those robes due to their solidity and a bad example perhaps, but, uh, have you seen Zamorak's exposed chest? I'm sure 'godhood' didn't change that much, albeit some. Who wouldn't love a decently built Enahkra who will hand your ass to you? A babe. Sliske himself, while being one of the leanest of the Mahjarrat, probably has core strength and broad shoulders under those pauldrons. I'd like to imagine he'd also ( as some other of his kin) would be pretty flexible and train his Praetorians to be similar and absolutely strong in the event of having to resort to physical combat or maneuvering out of capture. Most of them were born on Freneskae, a planet made of plenty of solid rock/crystal cliffs and caves, they made pilgrimages pretty often to the ritual site, so some rock climbing was probably involved as they grew. Plus, image small, child Mahjarrat, not able to teleport or be proficient in magic, just out on a day with less lightning, climbing around, chucking rocks into lava for fun. I'm getting off-topic and we'll talk about babbies some other post.

SKIN / STRIPES / SCARRATIONS.

personal interpretation body/stripe of sliske here. (mildly nsfw)

 Skin colorations are usually running the gamut of dark grey, pale grey, and dull color such as a grey-green, grey yellow and more. It's also notable that Mahjarrat are shapeshifters and are known to slowly take on the appearances of the conditions they are in for extended amounts of time; Kharshai becoming more 'viking-esque' like the Fremennik people who took him in when he was unaware he was human, and also Bilrach's warped appearance from spending god knows how long in Daemonheim with larger ridges, scarring, and some more demonic-looking features. Sliske himself has a very deep, dark slate grey skin tone from the amount of time he spends in the dark of the Shadow Realm, beginning to mimic its dusk. 

Mahjarrat have thick skin, built initially to withstand the heat and abrasion of their home world’s rocky and dangerous climate and environment, but also notably protective against icy and snow-fraught climates, as they have little to no issue or complaint at heading far North of the Fremennik Providence, near the icy fortress of Ghorrock where their ritual stone lays on Gielinor ( it's also notable that Jhallan asks the adventurer to re-seal him within a fuggin’ block of ice to rest again, proving they do not mind the cold at all ). Their skin can scar if proper regeneration is not taken to heal wounds, as Mahjarrat are known for almost instantaneously healing themselves of most wounds on the battlefield to their own volition, but this is quite rarely seen on them, sans Bilrach.  For all we know, they could be quite scarred from lack of regeneration fueled by magical energy or quite severe wounds under those robes that cover most of their body, I personally headcanon that some may have some scarring on their hands and forearms due to the might of some of the spells they use. I also personally headcanon Sliske having a pretty nasty burn across his shoulder and ribs trailing to the hip on the left side from Tumeken's explosive self-sacrifice detonation that wiped out the entirety of his army and at least 3/4ths of the Mahjarrat present, sans the ones spared by Azzanadra's quick shielding. I would think that some of them also may have suffered from similar scars due to Kharshai admitting they were tired and wounded after the event.

Striping and markings can litter their forms in sparse or rather heavy. Most Mahjarrat have at least some facial striping that can be a monochrome pale grey or darker, or a bright color such as Wahisietel's bright red trailing across his ridges to his chin spikes, Enakhra's vivid pink colorations, and Khazard's orange striping. While stripes may look similar from individual to individual you are hard-pressed to find two Mahjarrat with identical markings, and we have never heard of any twins being born from their tribe in canon ( Not saying it's not possible! But that would be a lot of strain seeing as once child is hard enough for a pair to conceive ). It's unknown if the stripes are across the rest of their bodies, but I say to hell with it. Why the hell not? Let the stripes go as angular or curvy as they please across their skin. Why limit the imagination. They are aliens. For the sake of me writing Sliske; he's a very pale silvery, parallel stripy thing under those robes with handsome slate skin. Go figure, that's jus' me though. ( Whatddya mean I made a personal ref of that?? s w e a t s?? slight warning for some not safies. )

CLAWS / FEET.

personal interpretation of sliske’s rock climbin’ sharp feets here.

Mahjarrat probably do have clawed hands and feet, and they are thick and sharp, along with strong ( most likely calloused for some ) palms and heels for climbing ( possibly before they were so proficient with teleporting ) They are also prime last resort weapons if need be and constantly need filing down on Gielinor and other terrains since they aren't around the rocky outcrops of Freneskae and using them there as much, most Mahjarrat seem to opt to wear gloves anyway. Their legs and arms are also pretty sturdy for climbing despite not needing to do so as much. I’d imagine they might just have longer toe and finger bones for mild gripping abilities when it comes to climbing. I’ve also kinda headcanoned often that they probably might have wrapped parts of their feet in bindings, just to keep things like soft arches or tendon areas save when climbing or walking. Ancient hellplanet fashion, baby.

GEMS.

Just about all Mahjarrat ( and Dreams of Mah in general ) have at least one 'crystal' or 'gemstone' in their brows or crowns ( whoever in the wiki said Sliske doesn't have one is a fraud, just because we don't see it due his V tapered hood doesn't mean it's not there, as it has been shown in several concept arts that he does have two yellow-green or 'peridotite' colored diamonds, like his half-brother’s four of the same color ). When asked about it in the Children of Mah quest, Wahisietel states that even they are not sure as to why they have them but believe it to be a direct connection to Mah. It's also implied that a dead Mahjarrat's 'crystal' often records their last thoughts or actions. Most Mahjarrat have the exact same bright iris color as their stones ( the concept art with Sliske having gold eyes throws me off, but I'd imagine there could be some minor color differences ). It seems that gemstones look-alike from siblings and offspring, as Sliske and his half-brother Wahisietel have almost the same colored crystal and shape despite Wahisietel having four diamonds to Sliske's two.

 ORGANS? OR LACK THEREOF? 

personal interpretation of nasty snake man blood here.

It's truly unknown as to just how many organs Mahjarrat have and if there is any comparison to be made to humans. It can be hypothesized they do have at least a heart ( With more chambers than a humans? Or two! Who knows! ) and lungs. If they do have lungs, it could be stated that they are very strong and made to filter out the heavy ash and debris of Freneskae's poor air quality, our adventurer had enough trouble breathing on Freneskae if you didn't take face gear. They do not seem to have a digestive tract as they do not need sustenance or hydration and perhaps have a makeshift stomach that leads nowhere as if they do eat anything, they just have to regurgitate it. Onto blood, they possibly do have a circulatory system and blood, as Lucien states he didn't 'want to spill any more Mahjarrat blood'. Normal human blood would be a bit boring so I like to imagine they have thick, dark-colored blood that has some iridescent properties to it ( not glittery, but if you have ever seen what the ink in a ballpoint pen looks like when dumped out, it has a particular shine to it. ) and never seems to be just one color, like an oil slick. Probably because it's so rich in arcane properties which would also make it pretty toxic, bitter, or awfully sickly sweet. This also means that they would blush pretty dark in color and have dark-colored tongues and etc. rather than red like humans, that's.... kinda cute.  Also, if we are talking about organs and parts, a small blurb, no, female Mahjarrat do not have boobs. There's no need since they probably do not feed their young at all. So breaking canon for the sake of biology, hi, Mahjarrat probably don't have boobs or nips. Kinda doesn’t make sense. SHRUG. But they do have belly buttons, so maybe they are gestated with umbilical cords.

THE BANE OF THE JMOD’S EXISTENCE: MAHJARRAT REPRODUCTION

Y'all wanted it Jmods yell when we ask for it, here it is: my reproduction hypothesis. We have little to no real canon lore for Mahjarrat other than that they do(?) reproduce sexually, it takes a lot of energy to do so (abt 50% physical effort, 50% the pair pooling their life energy into the event, kinda dangerous), and that they are culturally fond of breeding during earthquakes ( this was just a cultural tradition and it's probably possible to breed outside of this tradition, the jokes say it’s almost Pavlovian ). They have a specific ritual for breeding, The Ritual of Enervation. The Enervation is the foil of a Ritual of Rejuvenation where one of their kind is sacrificed to provide all others with energy and return them from their lich-like states to fleshy filled out ones, the Enervation is a pilgrimage to select a mate and breed to create a new Mahjarrat between a pair. It's slightly hinted that the pair chooses their mate based upon battle prowess or cunningness ( Zemouregal Senior chose his mate based on her skills in battle ) . Much like real animals today, they want only the strongest genetics and mutations to continue on. All of them fight each other for their pick of a mate. Very rarely do the pairs have any emotional attachment, this is rare. And the ritual still isn't pretty; I'll say it, they are rough lovers. Expect biting, scratching, bruising, and more. Kinky. Let me tell you, human genitalia are boring as hell when you are describing aliens. Phallic genitalia differs a lot from individual to individual, it's a slight 'grab bag to see what part works best for future genetics'. Mahjarrat bits are pretty internal until aroused since it makes no sense for them to be external seeing as all Mahjarrat lose a lot of skin and muscle to atrophy as they age and lose energy, so they'd do better internally and tucked away. Vaginal genitalia differs heavily as well, anything goes. Barbs? Sure. Flowery looking bits? Sure. It's aliens, guys. Go wild. Same thing with sexualities and genders, other than what they want to present themselves as, we don't know shit, so go for it. I'm fairly sure Mahjarrat really don't mind gender identity and anything goes, they see power, survival, and fighting over everything else. Sliske, of course, is male presenting and yes, has his own unique bits. Uh, ridges, bifurcated tip, fan-like appendage for preventing backflow. I'd describe more but I'm already pRETTY FUCKING SHY RIGHT NOW BC I DON'T KNOW HOW TO talk much abt this. I'm a beginner alien fucker. Give me a break. UPDATE: I went there, I no longer have shame. bc I roughly drew it.

I’m not sure what the good estimate would be when it comes to how long a Mahjarrat gestates, is it longer than a human? Quicker due to magic? We just don’t know. The birth rate is exceedingly low due to the dangers and strain of Freneskae, it's not unheard of for miscarriages or mothers to pass away from lack of energy or during the fray of the constant other tribes attacking each other. Generally, it's a duty to protect a gravid mother of the sake of population, mate or not. Putting aside your disdain for your nemesis was hard but needed if you wanted to keep your tribe thriving. Fathers don't tend to stick around after the ritual other than to check in to protect their child and future genetics as insurance. Mothers rear children and if they could get along and not spat at one another, often looked after each other's children. Maternal groups were pretty common and one could leave another to watch their kids while they went off on their duties of making lightning rods, scouting, and more. 

MISC? 

Mahjarrats don't exactly have the same bonds as humans and familial life was harsh, mainly due to the stress of knowing your own blood one day might betray you and vote you off to be the sacrifice at a ritual. They are not affectionate as much as humans and care in their own backwards way about each other if they are family, but it's an arm's length approach. Sliske and Wahisietel seem to get along and still probably have their ferocious verbal quarrels and have possibly even physically scuffled a bit over things, but managed to have concern for one another, as do Mahjarrat who are as best a definition of 'friends' can be to them. Remember that they are very paranoid of one another and usually only see eye to eye if in the same political faction or having to make a deal or coerce one another to stand up for you if you are challenged at a ritual ( later on this became a huge political agenda between the two main sides; Zamorakian or Zarosian and fighting intensified at dislike for each other ). As they evolved from their creation, they just generally became more and more mistrustful of each other to point of paranoia. So affection is incredibly weird to them and the first thought that comes from it is 'what do you want and why?' and it's expected to be a deceitful notion. Hence, Sliske is incredibly good at persuading others and using deceitful action to lure people but the moment it's done to him, he'll play along but consider it warily as false notions. Sorry not sorry, that's pretty habitual to him and will stay with him, as well as his kin. You're never going to have a 'stable relationship' with any Mahjarrat. Well, not 100% at least. You can try, they might even appreciate it if they aren’t offended.

That’s about all I wanted to say and anything left out of this word spew can be covered in other posts. Like culture.... or babbies. I have a lot to say about Babjarrats but no place right now to keep up this long shit.  UPDATE: i talked abt my thoughts on babjarrats. it was the best of my life.

[thesundowncrew]

The Sundown Crew’s rp plotting cheat-sheet

Want new-and-exciting plots for your character? Long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? Fear not! Fill out this form and give your RP partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted.

Be sure to tag the players whose characters YOU want more cues to interact with, and repost, don’t reblog! Feel free to add or remove sections as you see fit. Template here.

Mun name: Dee OOC Contact: Tumblr IM

Who the heck is/are my muse(s) anyway:

In the main crew, we have Sammy, a nerdy ghoul boi who is the embodiment of Samhain (of the Celtic calendar) and Guardian of the Veil; Nightshade, his soul-sister and cat-turned-human witchy familiar; and last but not least Axel, the sadistic, cannibal crow mythos who’s only interested in revenge and fucking people (up).

They’re all super old and supernatural and 2/3 are always happy to meet new people!

Points of interest:

Samhain & Nightshade: guarding the Veil, keeping the balance, protecting innocent humans and mythos alike, adventuring and exploring new places, meeting people and learning new things. Sammy enjoys reading, treasure-hunting and getting lost in his research. Nightshade enjoys cooking, eating, listening to music, and keeping up with the latest memes.

Axel: looking for the biggest, baddest, toughest rivals he can fight to the death with, enjoys challenges, exploring new places, witnessing genocides and mass-murders, causing genocides and mass-murders, fucking people (up) psychologically and physically.

What they’ve been up to recently:

Samhain & Nightshade: their work and responsibilities as Guardians of the Veil. Though the Veil is at its thinnest during Hallow’s Eve (31st Oct), they work 24/7 by hunting malicious spirits and whatever dangerous creatures threatening both humans and mythos that are already existing in the world. When not on the job, they’re either out sight-seeing and visiting friends or chilling at home. They also run a small business from home by making potions, charms and selling spells or rare ingredients. Merchants and traveling caravans often stop by their place so they always have a lot of stock to trade.

Axel: whatever the fuck he wants. Mostly spends his time hunting down prey in the human world, or spreading his wings and exploring new and faraway lands/dimensions. He’s still on his quest to journey to Hell and get his revenge on the demoness who killed his whole family. Always easier said than done, but he’s patient and he plays the long game better than anyone.

Where to find them:

The crew live on an abandoned, magickal island called Sundown. Geographically, it’s somewhere up in Northern Ireland but can’t be marked on any human map. It was magickal long before any of them settled there and because of its supernatural properties, it can hide itself from the naked eye. At the same time the island and its forests are connected to every labyrinth, maze and neck of the woods across worlds and dimensions.

Samhain is always saying that the island has a mind of its own and likes to spirit people away, regardless if their living or dead. People either end up in Sundown when they least expect it, or because it’s where they’re supposed to go.

While you can easily find Samhain and Nightshade at home, Axel can’t stay cooped up in once place too long and travels all over the place. When he’s not hunting, he escapes to the quiet of the wild or the bustling big cities.

Current plans:

The narrative starts with Samhain and Nightshade already experts in their fields and doing their jobs as Guardians of the Veil, and continues with them helping Axel achieve his goal of ultimate payback. The timeline for this blog is infinite after that because I haven’t quite figured out the endgame for anything just yet. Which is why any plot that involves Axel killing Ketele, getting his heart back, and even Nightshade’s life after Samhain’s death, is considered an AU.

In terms of plans for this blog, I’m still working on things so that they can fall into place and serve as proper material for a comic. Once I’ve gotten all my ideas sorted out, those AUs might probably not stay AUs and end up being one huge main timeline.

Desired interactions:

I’d love more threads that explore the darker side of Samhain, whether it’s in the Mainverse or in any of the AUs where he’s not his usual, warm, friendly self or where he’s morally grey. Which is why I love writing him in his criminal verses! Some of my faves are: - Pirate AU: He’s the first-mate and quartermaster who has the gift of ‘Sight’ but he’s as pirate as they come. - Green Eyed Devil: Human-Ghoul hybrid bandit whose crew would do almost anything for money. - Mobprince AU: Classy and more reserved, the quiet but bloodthirsty type. I’ve always been a fan of mobs/gangs/syndicates. - Dark!Samhain: Angsty, overpowered hermit. I rarely get opportunities to write him in this verse which is a shame because I’d like to develop it more.

Nightshade’s all fun and games but once in a while, it’d be refreshing for Nightshade to do a serious thread. Like maybe deal with heavier, more sensitive topics. I’ve emphasized how she’s seen the same amount of horror Samhain has seen but comes out more mentally resilient in comparison, so I’d really like to explore that more about her. I also feel like she hasn’t been able to really connect with anyone as a real friend?? Idk how to explain it but like, I feel like she just floats between different muses and she’s so friendly with everyone, it’s hard to pinpoint whether there is a real connection between them or if it’s just Nightshade being...Nightshade? It’s none of my partners’ faults BTW! I’m reminding me to fix that about myself and how I write her.

Speaking of darker topics, I don’t mind pushing the boundaries when it comes to Axel as long as it doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable. I used to write some disturbing shit with him back in the day (like he broke into a drug lord’s flat and killed everyone in it so he could use it as his personal nest, killed and ate two police officers who were investigating the break-in, mutilated, tortured and ate a rapist alive after catching him in the act etc.). But the partners I used to write with are long gone and I feel like Axel needs to get back into the game again.

Offered interactions:

All of the above as well as anything else from my list of AUs! As mentioned on the page, that list is not the TOTAL list of AUs I’ve got. Some are just really small and still in development, and not enough to justify getting a spot on that list. Honestly, I’m open to plotting and coming up with more AUs so if you’ve got an idea, just hmu! I’ve also got a tag for ‘au ideas’ so you can browse there too if you like and tell me if anything strikes your fancy~

Current open post/s:

I don’t make open posts or starters. I prefer writing starters once my partner and I have something in mind and we’ve plotted enough to go about it.

Anything else?:

Though the blog is advertised as a WEEKEND blog (cus I work 9-5 on weekdays), I am usually lurking online thanks to mobile and will answer IMs when free. I don’t like replying to threads on mobile so I’ll usually reply on the weekends. Unless I’m busy that weekend, then sometimes I change up the rules and reply on a Friday or whenever I’m able.

When I reply to threads, I like to release a bunch at a time and then I’ll tag my partners so that they can see how many threads I’ve replied to out of the total count, like so! The total count often changes because we could have dropped threads in between, or partners go on hiatus and they get moved from ‘ongoing’ to ‘cold’ threads. Because of this, I have a threads page which I try my best to update.

Tagged by Stolen from: @bengalisms

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, LIZ! You’ve been accepted for the role of TYBALT. Admin Rosey: Liz, welcome, welcome, welcome back! Reading the application over is such a treat for the admin team as a whole. Your interpretation of Tiberius is so shameless, vibrant, and utterly unique that I couldn’t help but swoon a second time over when reading it. You give him such a vivid voice and direction -- I’m over the moon that he has come back into the fold once more. The Capulets kids are so ready to wreak havoc, I pray for the group as a whole. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

WELCOME TO THE MOB.

Out of Character

Alias | Liz.

Age | 27.

Preferred Pronouns | She/her.

Activity Level | Since English is my third language, it takes not only inspiration, but a lot of effort to write, so I might not be able to pop out replies on a daily basis, but I shall always be around for plotting and developing the character. Overall, I’d say 5-6, writing-wise, and 8-9 plotting-wise.

Timezone | GMT +4.

In Character

Character  | Tybalt, Tiberius look-at-me-the-wrong-way-and-I’ll-step-on-your-throat Capulet.

What drew you to this character? | It’s been a while since I played a “villain”, and it’s a challenge I love to take on. At the face value, Tybalt is a bad guy - murderous, ambitious and ruthless. To be given a chance to dig deeper and find redeeming qualities, discover his many layers and hidden depths, which explains why he is the way he is – I find it to be the best part of writing a villain.

In history books, the names of villains and heroes are written with the same ink. Scratch that, history is written by the winners. In psychology, anger is a secondary emotion. There’s always a root cause emotion hiding underneath it, in most cases, fear or hurt. But, not when it comes to Tiberius. No, his anger stems from desire. The desire to make his mark on the pages of history. It’s not an ego thing, really, it’s more about – what’s the point of living if you don’t make it count? Endless money, beautiful women and fast cards do not interest him. He only cares about power - as a means to an end. The end being engraving his name in history for days to come. And honestly, his own and his family name are one and the same. He sees himself as the most efficient and capable weapon to guarantee the Capulet glory.

He isn’t a psychopath who can’t understand human emotions and have empathy, he just considers himself above it all. There’s a weakness in compassion. Even if his heart tells him to show mercy, he will only do it if it benefits him in the long run. Tiberius is rage given a voice, but his anger doesn’t control him, he controls his anger. Sometimes, he randomly shows either unexpected mercy or completely exaggerated ruthlessness. That’s part of his long-term game, too - always remain unpredictable, so the enemy can never anticipate your next move.

To sum up, he believes “you only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough”, and I’d love to bring him to this amazing journey.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

The King without a crown | Maybe he isn’t technically the leader, but I’d love to see him grow into a person the whole organisation gravitates towards, and listens to his command, even if his title doesn’t give him the ultimate authority by default.

Cat & Mouse | Tiberius is a violent person, but his violence is never personal, it’s always strategic. Every rule has an exception though, and there’s a person behind the enemy lines he simply enjoys making miserable. He beat the ever-living shit out of them on more than one occasion, always dropping them off in front of the hospital to make sure they make it out alive, so he can come back for more.

Friends in high places | Imagine if Tiberius had to set aside his knives, guns, and fists for once and, for once, be forced to get his way with smiles and champagne. There’s a person he needs on his side, and they’re too politically or socially powerful for Tiberius to punch into submission. But, absolutely have the attempt to try a different route blow up in his face and him resorting to good old, violent ways.

Regrets collect like old friends | Him killing someone that Rafaella, or Juliana truly care about. No, he won’t regret the act, but maybe regret being smug about it, in front of them. Tiberius trying to make amends would be a fun spectacle to watch.

Hell has no fury | One of his soldiers betraying him. For now, he’s confident his leadership methods are foolproof, and guarantee loyalty. How shall he deal with the idea that he might be wrong? Will he try to change anything? Or will he make such a vicious example out of the treacherous rat that no one else will dare to do the same? Maybe both…

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes.

In Depth

In-Character Para Sample: Again, write as much or as little as you need to get your interpretation across.

He should have learned by now that when you were in charge of a group of men that may or may not contain one or two specimens of profound idiocy, things were going to get in the way of plans. There were always things; new things, old things, the repetition of things he thought he’d already resolved - problems, you called those - that were, apparently, beyond the mental capacity of certain barely-evolved ape-like goons that he called his family. The other family, of course; not the ones he sat quietly - or not so quietly - down to Sunday dinners with, but the other one - his Capulet soldiers. Yeah, that one, the one we don’t speak of in a legally inclined environment.

In fact, the problem he was presented with when he reached their safehouse - his base of operations - was of such an absurd level of imbecility that he’d contemplated shooting the poor bastard who’d solicited his assistance. Somehow, some way, by some twist of stupidity, they thought it was a good idea to execute a Russian loyalist on a Montague territory. It had taken most every swear-word he knew in every language he spoke to express his utter disappointment, before he instructed these useless piles of crap never to snort cocaine while on task. The place reeked of blood. He hadn’t been there when his men executed the loyalist who wouldn’t give up the information Tiberius needed, but he could tell, it had been brutal.

The body had been carried out, dropped off at the side of the room. There were a couple of guys standing nearby; Tiberius could hear that the topic of the evening was “the blonde with a huge rack”. Empty bragging from one of the guys; he knew that no blonde with a huge rack had gone home with him last night. If she had, it had happened after he left, and she would hardly have been as attractive as the man in question suggested. He loved him like a brother, but the guy did not have game. He had money, at times, but not game. The Dark Lady whores never turned him down.

“I look down, and she’s got her mouth wrapped around my cock…”

He heard the words, registered them, and he grinned. Empty talk. Big talk. He’d heard it all before. After raining fury upon them for making a mistake, Tiberius had calmed down. He walked up to them. “Let me guess, and then she asked you for my number?” he even offered a joke.

The guys broke out laughing, even the guy the comment was directed at. A crude joke here, a crude joke there, it kept them on his side, and it kept him on their level. Not to mention that it kept him where he felt comfortable. The captain of Capulets, where he could be as brutal and crude as he wanted without worrying about hurting people’s precious feelings; it suit him just fine. One day, he wanted to be the general. He was going to be the general. But for now, he loved being in charge of these morons he called his soldiers.

As the conversation started again, this time revolving around another loyalist’s latest conquest, he let his eyes stray from the party and take in the sight of the dead man. He couldn’t see his face; his arm had landed over his head when he’d been dropped there, hiding it, but he could still see the consequences of all the beating he took. It was like writing across his body; several large cuts, giant bruises, a rib sticking out of his skin. He could see his body moving, his chest rising and settling weakly. “You said that he was dead.” He didn’t realize until he’d said it that he’d interrupted the conversation, just to utter a statement in an accusatory tone. Everyone was suddenly silent, staring at him.

“Yeah, but… He’s as good as; we didn’t think it’d matter.”

He felt like clearing his throat, but didn’t. He didn’t like being lied to, or being served near-truths. “It doesn’t,” he barked, passing the speaker an annoyed look, “But if he isn’t dead yet, he isn’t dead yet. You don’t have to spare my feelings.” He finished his statement with a smirk, and the others laughed slightly. Feelings, pshh. Like any of them had that. He looked at the body again, the weak but desperate way it breathed. “Isn’t Alessandro’s closed over the weekend?“

“Aww, not Alessandro’s! That’s my favorite sandwich place!”

Tiberius smirked. “You don’t have to stop eating there.“ Some of the others laughed, one or two nudged the speaker in the side, waggling their eyebrows and making eating gestures. The man looked sick to his stomach, but it passed quickly, like it should. “Don’t blame me, anyway; blame Alessandro for going out of town at the right time.” It was the easiest way to handle it, really; find the nearest closed sandwich shop or restaurant under their care, make use of their machinery and avoid eating there for a couple of months, until there was no chance of human mixing with ham anymore. It made it easier to dispose of the bodies when they were in little bits, after all. “There a car out back?” he asked when the conversation between the others started to fade, and one of the guys dangled some keys and nodded. “Alright. Let’s move him.”

“What the hell are you waiting for? You want me to perform the last rites, or something?“ They stopped stalling and picked up the body. He groaned. "Stop.” The guys looked mildly concerned. “Put him down!” They dropped him, hard. He groaned again, weakly. He grabbed the man’s head, twisted it in a sudden motion. The snap was followed by a silent exhale. It almost sounded peaceful. He got back up, nodded to the guys. They picked up the body, carried him out. Looking down, he realized that there were stains of blood on his hands. Someone handed him a rag. He cleaned most of the blood off, subsequently dropping the dirty rag on the floor. He was done here. “Chop him and bury him,” the order went directly to one of his closest, and he nodded in response, “I’ve got a party to get to.”

Extras: here’s a link to mock.