#cxskxtsymptxm

[traumamade]

@cxskxtsymptxm sent [Nemmy] [ PULL ]: sender pulls receivers hair.

Teeth grit together as the hand curls into his hair and tugs sharply, forcing his head to yank back painfully. His eyes remain locked on the creature's face, lips pulling up into a smirk. He isn't trying to get free, he shows no fear here. How can you scare a man who is already prepared to die?

"Heh. If you wanted to fuck me, all you had to do was ask." Leon breathes shakily, another sharp tug at his hair has him gasping loudly, his hand slowly inching towards his thigh holster to grab his gun.

Though, he doesn't pull it yet. He's kind of interested to see what the creature's goals are here, or if he even understands anything Leon is saying.

[cxskxtsymptxm]

high activity mutuals only, 18+ multi-muse featuring multi-fandom canon characters such as Jack Krauser, The Spot, Eddie Gluskin, Spider-Weaver, Corey Cunningham, Ghostface, Michael TMA, && many more. Features OC && Canon-divergent characters and some art from time to time.

Penned by Lazurin ☠ thirty-one ☠ Commissions on HOLD

affiliates: @bastardstandard && @lettherebemonsters && @lethalpursuit

Blog will feature high levels of GORE, DEATH, OBSESSION, BODY HORROR, VIOLENCE, MEDICAL MALPRACTICE, NSFW, && MORE.

Be advised, NO MINORS ARE ALLOWED.

Rules and Website

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

[cxskxtsymptxm;; The spot] Is there someone just casually rummaging around the RPD including Wesker's desk? Sure is! Welcome your new buddy, or nemesis- The Spot! Interdimensional being and kind of a nerd.

He does not seem to care who or what is in the room. The instant that he hears the sound of something rummaging through it, he bursts through the door with his knife already drawn and lunges at the unfortunate soul.

[pumpkinstabs-moving]

Art can be seen inside the Myers house... How did he get in there? Where did he get the random clown mask? No matter, because he's brought a gift in the form of a decimated corpse writhing on the couch as the tv plays a sitcom. How is that survivor alive? Magic. Clown magic, sure why not! Scalped, torn apart, and covered in salt. Just for Mikey!

It is known Michael does not enjoy visitors in his home. However... he does enjoy pain and death, his sadism more prominent on certain days than others. Today is one of those days. His heart craves agony, so when he hears ruckus downstairs, he's expecting a curious survivor trying to explore the house or find a room to have some privacy in. He's thinking about what he'll do to them, but instead, he's surprised by the remains of a human being on the old couch. They're bleeding, face stickied with tears and... salt? Michael tilts his head at them, and when they meet eyes with him, Michael's heart beats once more. He descends down the creaky staircase and stands tall before them, simply watching them try to breathe properly, trying to do anything to cease the pain in any way possible. It almost looks like they're begging Michael to finish them off, to plunge his knife through their chest, but he won't. Not yet. After all, how can he waste Art's gift?

He'll have to think of a way to return the favor.

[d4ngerous-shadowbanned]

❛ just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not already here. ❜ / @cxskxtsymptxm

MONEY IS A MOTIVATOR, AND it motivates Reaper's choices. Thusly - sticking him here, with these two, for this job. Though he can't deny that little twinge of annoyance that goes through him at the others words. The rat, as he's designated him. The rat and the hog - that's all the respect the wraith hands the pair. A movement of his head that is indicative of an eye roll - a gesture he has long since gotten used to doing to outwardly show exasperation when he feels the situation warrants it. 

" What sound tactics. It would be useful had I not already had them in the back of my mind. " The response is gruff and dry, a single claw tapping against the metal of his gun laid across his knee as he kneels, surveying the area before them. Their goals here aligned. The rat wanted the gear, Reaper needed certain targets dead. There'd be information here too, to lead to the bigger fish - the ones he really wants to put an end to. But for now - start small. Use whoever is convenient at the time to get him there. 

" I would suggest you listen to my plan and follow it through to the letter in order to make this go as smooth as possible - but I have a feeling I am wasting precious time if I outlined a plan to you. You don't seem the type to be inclined to listen or follow along, despite how well thought out and logical something might be. " Which causes him great irritation - as tactics being the most important thing was drilled into Gabriel's mind, and thusly his own. 

" I can work with whatever you do. " He stands himself up. If he's correct in his assessment of the pair, they'll cause chaos enough for him to get his intel first, then systematically work his way through the targets he needs dead - and every other idiot that gets in the way. " Keep in mind your injuries are your own. I am not going to stop to help. I am going to do my job. " Kill recklessly, really. " You both got that in your heads ? "

[lettherebemonsters]

[cxskxtsymptxm, muse: Art the Clown] Whos' that waving... toting a large trash bag? WHY IT'S ART! Look at this happy little clown, lankily walking towards Clowntrap with a smile from ear to ear! How ever could this little guy be a threat?

Clowntrap was many things but underneath his silly exterior was a cruel, devious hunter. He knew that Art wasn't nearly as cute and innocent as he looked.

His sensors, taking over for his sense of smell long since lost when his biological body started rotting in his clown suit, picked up copious amounts of blood and tissue attached to the other.

Only a fellow predator could smell like rotten flesh.

With a permanent grin stretched across his fake face, he offered Art a flower. A gift from a clown to another clown.

@cxskxtsymptxm

[attercopus]

[cxskxtsymptxm;; The Spot] [ 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐊 ] ― sender is drawn to the kitchen by the receiver’s cooking [He's probably hungry and trying to steal it LMAO]

🌙  *  ―     𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐒  (  prompts for the five senses. add [reversed] to reverse the action. feel free to change wording as needed & add details. ) / @cxskxtsymptxm

everything is always destined to happen to kabiguru on his days off. whether he liked it or not, that is the fate that the universe had 𝗨𝗡𝗙𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗟𝗬 bestowed upon him.

it wasn't often that he was able to cook for himself. not for lack of trying but simply in respect to ᴛɪᴍᴇ . a thing not often handed to webslingers who had a penchant for trying to solve everything and everyone in his proximity. yet today, he found the time; owing partially to an odd sense of quiet that had fallen over the city.

then, a feeling. 𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱.

        of course the silence is momentary. he can always give a bit of thanks to his enhanced senses but even without them, kabiguru is able to notice the... bizarre figure creeping their way into his living room kitchenette. ( and a portal above his head he's pretending not to sense trying to reach into his steaming pot of 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀'𝐑 𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀. ) just his luck. a villainous threat in the cozy of his home. at the very least, they haven't blown it up yet.

               " say — you do know 's illegal to trespass, right ? "

[spiderled]

[cxskxtsymptxm;; The Spot ] oh , jesus , are you alright ?

it is... extremely odd to be asked if he's alright by the same person he's trying to capture. usually in a situation like this, the enemy taunts and mocks him, throws insults his way and definitely doesn't ask if he's okay after causing him damage. miguel's suit glitches briefly as he recovers from the brutal hit-- a hole opening ended with him getting slammed in the face with an 18 tonne truck hard enough to make him taste blood in his mouth and make his head spin. he claws his way up the side of the nearest building to create distance, tearing apart brick and cement in the process.

"you're asking me if i'm okay after throwing a truck at me???" then again... maybe he didn't do it purposely. he's not sure. he doesn't seem fully in control of his abilities. god, miguel knows what that's like. "no, i'm not okay! but you're going to be even worse once i get my hands on you, cabron!" @cxskxtsymptxm

[torntruth]

[cxskxtsymptxm, Muse: Xenomorph 'Teno'] Something large saunters by, keeping to the pads of its feet and hands to seemingly appear smaller than what it actually is. What is presented, however, which is sure to give Ellen a fight is an oddly colored, speckled but very large xenomorph with silvery teeth and Queen-like features. It doesn't attack straight out, merely watching and observing her... For now.

RIPLEY TURNS FAST. just spins on her heel. not that it all particularly mattered without a flamethrower because a plasma rifle always just causes damage and a xeno splatter would only hurt everything around them. furthermore, ripley was honestly not expecting a xeno. out of the creepiness of this place, one of THOSE was not on the list of things here. EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED ... or some shit.

ripley's jaw is clenched so tight, it's starting to hurt. her heart is beating straight out of her chest. sweat is bubbling on her forehead and neck especially. but ... all she does is stand still, brown eyes staring right back. a couple seconds of a freeze staring contest and she tilts her own head, observing the creature. fingers flexing around the plasma rifle in them. it takes a few more seconds of the staring contest to notice the difference in this xenomorph. which is probably never a good sign. WEYLAND-YUTANI'S DOING? if only she could ask.

random inbox things.

[traumamade]

Hey what if Nemesis was turned more human. What would you do, seeing as you clearly tamed it.

"I'm not sure that's possible but I guess the same thing I've been doing. Maybe teach him how to exist with humans, if he looks more human too."

[feralverndari]

continued from [x] @cxskxtsymptxm

For every action, there is a consequence.

It was just a fact of life that West was all too familiar with it. Whether he could use it to his advantage or if it would royally screw him over was another matter entirely.

So far, it seemed it would be the latter.

Yes, he knew those words sounded stupid, yes he knew what the point of these fucked up trials were, but he was more hoping to see if this killer could be riled up. If pride was sin he could take advantage of and at least have Ghostface start trying to chase him down and leave David be long enough for him to get to somewhere safe, and then all the mechanic had to do was run the serial killer around a bit until he lost him, then find David again and pick him up

Yet the words he used were...not the best.

The moment they left his mouth, he cursed himself internally, knowing that of all the things that could have been said, that was probably the worst and most stupid of them all. Worst of all, it led to a teammate getting killed because of it. The mechanic had to try very hard to steel his reactions, to force down the anger that rose almost like bile in the back of his throat down, less he make the situation worse. It's hard, though...gods is it hard when he has to watch not only a teammate die, but then be used as a sick photo op prop, the survivor's corpse further defiled by making it a puppet.

Bastard.

West felt the familiar sensation of his teeth starting to bare, but he forced himself out of that reaction as well, knowing that this was just a way for the other to get inside his head. Something he would have to note. While most killers seemed to simply go for a kill and be done with it, others had their own cruelty and sadistic tendencies, using all manner of taunts and psychological warfare to try and break the survivor's in both body and mind.

Piece by piece...

Honestly, West just wanted to tackle this bastard, use his fists to beat him to a bloody pulp, even if he did take a few stab wounds and possibly die because of it. But he couldn't do that now, having to learn the hard way that the only way he could ever get any sort of "revenge" was simply to survive. It was a bitter pill he had to swallow, but he knew that if he were just to charge at the killer, not only would it result in unnecessary self sacrifice, but that The Entity would punish him and others for his actions. Already, his scar ridden arm would begin to pulsate slightly with the familiar burn, almost reminding him to mind his place.

He was a muzzled dog trapped with hungry coyotes.

"...I don't get it," he managed after a minute or two, keeping an eye on Ghostface while hoping to find some way out, the sound of the hatch...something. Hopefully it wasn't spawned on his deaf side.

"Y'all get worked up when a flashlight is used, it blinds ya. Same with a firecracker, too. Any source a bright light," the mechanic continued, one foot shifting ever so slightly as if bracing himself for the worst, ready to run if he had to.

"So why is it...why is it tha' th' lil' flash from yer camera doesn't do th' same ta ya? How is it tha' tha's the one flash yer immune ta?"

Shutter, click, flash.

Shutter. Click. Flash.

If he could time it just right...

[manufactoredxbyxdesign]

cxskxtsymptxm] Krauser: So you just get a bunch of weird messages don't you.

“Sometimes they are. Other times they ask thoughtfully provoking questions. It truly is just a roll of the dice every day.”

[pumpkinstabs-moving]

[cxskxtsymptxm] [Sends Art at Michael]

Why who is nearby? It's ART of course! Having recently found himself with a brand new bag of goodies, the blood-stained clown offers a smile and a little finger way, goofy glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose. It looks like he's in a playful mood.

When Michael was a small boy, he enjoyed clowns. He always thought they were funny and soothing, in a way. They wore masks or face paint to hide their true face, always keeping their emotions and authentic thoughts away from the public eye. They made him happy once upon a time, but this... this feels like a mockery to what remains of his childhood, though he also finds himself... oddly intrigued. He wants to know what's in the bag over the clown's shoulder. Wants to know what his true face looks like... behind makeup, behind skin. The Boogeyman tilts his head, his massive figure unmoving otherwise, waiting for the other to approach, large fingers curled loosely around his kitchen knife. He doesn't plan to use it... not yet, anyway. @cxskxtsymptxm

[prettytm]

== BASICS

NAME : Punky, Bunny, hey you

PRONOUNS: She/her

ZODIAC SIGN: Leo

TAKEN OR SINGLE: In an open marriage

Sexuality: Demi sexual and it causes me nothing but problems

== THREE FACTS

I'm a pastel goth who is slowly turning their apartment in an Addams family wonderland. The husband and I have DIYed a lot of stuff ourselves and just recently we wallpapered and paints my studio and collection hall.

I am obsessed with Sailor Moon and I am not even sorry about it. The anime means the world to me for so many different reasons.

I'm dyslexic as hell. So if you see words where they don't belong or words that are almost what I mean.. but just aren't? It's because of that. I have something called short term dyslexia and i swear.. It sucks for writing sometimes more than anything else.

== EXPERIENCE

PLATFORMS USED : Started with AOL. Moved to tumblr and skype and now I'm also on discord. I thought about twitter but I'm not sure I could ever limit my word count.

PLOTTING / WINGING IT / MEMES : All three? I love to plot, getting my fingers into my muse and my partners muse to figure out how to get them to play together. But I love winging it and memes just as much. At this point? It's what makes my partner most comfortable.

== MUSE PREFERENCE

GENDER : Hmm. That's a good question. I think I'm most comfortable writing characters that speak to me. Whether they be one gender or the other. I guess the more important question would be.. What type of muses I like. I'd list them all.. But I think I just have to list a few. Billy Russo, Dorian Gray, Harley Quinn, Joshua Washington. I love broken muses who have something for me to sink my teeth into. Gender isn't always as important as who someone is.

MULTI OR SINGLE : Listen. I usually only do single. But I am hardcore considering a multi. Which is mostly @taleswritten's fault.

LEAST FAVOURITE FACECLAIM(S) : Uhm.. ?? I don't know! I'm sure there's someone. Can I just piggyback off of @cxskxtsymptxm? Cause I think that upsets me more than anything. Whitewashing is just.. There's no need for it. Ever.

== FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT

FLUFF: Listen. I like fluff. It has a time and a place but.. Is it my favorite? No.

ANGST: Right so.. YES TO ANGST ALWAYS. I will always find a way to make everything just a little more angst. If someone isn't coming to cry on me about Billy I'm not doing my job.

SMUT: Always. Billy is horny. I'm horny. Give us smut.

tagged by: tagged by @cxskxtsymptxm

tagging: @fasciinating. @manufactoredxbyxdesign, @taliaromanova, @taleswritten, @misfittcd, @morgansmornings, @brooklynislandgirl, @felinoir and anyone else I've forgotten because noodle brain

[lettherebemonsters]

Stares at Michael, looks back, looks at again. Wasn't he dead, should he wave? Should he run? These are the real questions. [cxskxtsymptxm, Muse: Corey. How about a Crossover >:3]

Michael didn't know exactly what was going on. The young male (a veritable pest at times) was just standing there, as if waiting for an introduction.

Human interactions died out a long time ago, leaving him stunted and detached. Instead, he tilted his head, single black eye scanning the other.

He didn't sense danger, not that he felt fear anyways...it was just awkward.

@cxskxtsymptxm

[bubblepoptunes]

This MUSE has been moved to @cxskxtsymptxm