#ritzycervidae

[voxiiferous]

But do you feel like a young god? You know the two of us are just young gods And we'll be flying through the streets with the people underneath And they're running, running, running

@ritzy-cervidae | A Vox/Lolo aesthetic! I hope you like it!

[radicheart-a]

🖌

send me ✎ ( pencil ) and I'll draw your muse!! send me 🖌 ( paint brush ) and my muse will draw yours!!

"I could never do him true justice, but I did my best."

[smiledotdeer]

@ritzy-cervidae (closed & plotted starter)

It’s the morning after Les arrived at his home, and Cal knows it’s far from over. Sure, he’s not high anymore, but he’s still badly hurt, and as little as he knows about drugs, Cal does understand that he’ll be suffering for several days after.

There’s not much he can do about it other than try to make it easier to bear.

He can start by taking care of a basic need: hunger. Les is still out of it, letting Cal slip away just long enough that he can prepare a simple breakfast of eggs, toast, and bacon. By the time he comes back, Les has woken up, prompting Cal to flash him a warm smile.

“Good morning!” He totes the plate in the palm of his right hand, and with the flowery apron he’d tied on to cook, he looks more like a waiter than anything. “Feeling peckish at all?”

[concubuck]

On Air With @ritzy-cervidae

"What do I hear with my little ear—another me! You'll have to pardon me for not coming to greet you in person, but I just so happened to pick up your frequency and I just had to introduce myself! So hello, my friend—I'm you and you're Alastor, and it's a pleasure to meet you!"

[er0t0ph0n0philia]

let me assign you an aesthetic word

supernova

a supernova is a large explosion that takes place at the end of a star's life cycle. it's big, bright and beautiful, although quite sad. if you got this result, i wanna tell you that even if trauma still haunts you- even if you have scars, either on your skin or on your soul, you're still wonderful. you still shine, you're the most incredible work of art in the entire universe. give yourself more credit for all the stuff you've gone through, okay? i'm gonna speak for everyone and thank you for letting us be part of your life.

Tagged by: stolen from @ritzy-cervidae

Tagging: @raven-hellish-imp @radicheart @femmina-eroe @nebula-gaster (for whoever you like) @lcftcult and whoever else wants it!

[strangeandun-muse-ual]

GIVE  MY  MUSE  A  NICKNAME  /  PET  NAME.

le petit écran (the little screen)

Give my muse a nickname/pet name || Accepting

Vox can't help but chuckle, the sound staticky with amusement. With a tap to an unseen menu on a visual display that only Vox can see, his language settings are switched, and his next words are in perfectly unaccented French.

"Je ne dirais pas que c'est particulièrement petit."

[hellizens-aa]

@ritzy-cervidae​ | plotted starter feat. Angel Dust CW: abuse & harassment

🍥 It's been a rough night for Angel. He had pissed Valentino over something he saw as stupid and pointless yet again, causing the Overlord to use his fists instead of his words. There were quite a few bruises as a result, though thankfully most of them were able to be hidden by clothing. The rest were expertly covered with copious amounts of makeup and a bright smile.

🍥 Despite the beating he’d taken, Angel was sent to the streets for more work. Of course. Val wouldn’t allow him the luxury of a break, especially not after screwing up like that. This is just another layer of punishment: the time off he’d been promised is once again snatched away, and whatever profits he made tonight would all go to Val.

🍥 It’s nights like these where he wishes there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

🍥 As if things weren’t bad enough, now Angel has to deal with a rough client. He’d been approached by a hellhound (points given for that, he generally likes hellhounds), but the guy clearly doesn’t understand the meaning of personal space, or that the grip he gives to Angel’s upper right arm is tight like a vice (points taken away, he only likes rough treatment when it involves getting pounded into a bed).

🍥 He knows he should just play along. It’s what Val would want. But he doesn’t. “Hey! Hands off the merchandise, pal! —hey!! Are you deaf? Let go! You’re hurting me!”

[pcisin]

@ritzy-cervidae || x

"the one that came out in 1931 yeah? i think i was only in my 20's when they came out. i never got to watch it in theaters because of my dad being a stickler. got a copy? we can watch both if we got time."

[strangeandun-muse-ual]

"Hahahahaha. No no no no no, you know w̴h̶a̵t̵? That was uncharitable of me. Clowns are supposed to be f̷u̵n̸n̴y̶."

"And I haven't once gotten a single chuckle out of your f̸u̵c̷k̷i̵n̷g̷ ̵j̷o̵k̸e̸ of a radio station."

"That's odd~ wasn't it you who offered? Don't announce options to interact if you don't like the consequences Vox"

"Who's the clown now Television?"

[voxiiferous]

Alois blows a kiss at Vox and winks~ ;3

@ritzy-cervidae | as inspired by your meme fill!

It’s a dead common kink, he knows it is— he has the search figured it prove it. Down here even more so, where there doesn’t seem to be an upper limit to what depraved shit some people want, and what could, for a price, almost always be provided. And that was the difference for what he, Lolo, and Velvette peddled to the masses, it was fun, but not real.

At least, it wasn’t until his business partner offered to fulfill a private fantasy like it was an offer for lunch.

Vox blinks, at a loss for words. He opens his mouth, and then closes it with what would be, if he still had physical teeth, be a satisfying clink. “Lolo,” he says, a little strangled, and oh shit, he can feel the fans under his suit picking up speed and he just knows that means his screen is coming over all pink. So long as it doesn’t actually short signal then it’s fine.

“I- Alois! He’s not actually glitching, just incoherent. He can’t tell if that’s better or worse than the alternative. “I’m- you’re not serious? This is a joke, right? It had to be.”

[radicheart-a]

"mon âme partagée, are you alright?"

Despite having a literal dead body tangled up in his enormous blood-soaked antlers, Cal still snaps his head up towards the voice coming from a few feet in front of him. He approaches without hesitation so he can eventually grip onto his alternate's shoulders with both hands. "Help me..."

[smiledotdeer]

@ritzy-cervidae​: Dandelion may not be a 'flower' dear but if you drink it it can help with heart problems and help milk flow.

Cal looks up and blinks. He’d been singing quietly to himself, and it seemed to have caught some attention...but the comment throws him off guard. “—I beg your pardon?”

[smiledotdeer]

The scream startles him first. Ali's sudden appearance right after startles him second. He's about to answer Les when Ali cuts in.

"—he's been what?"

It's not a smell he could identify; after all, he's never come across anyone that had been drugged before. Not like this, at any rate. On one hand, it explains why his alternate had managed to be taken advantage of in such a truly unholy manner.

On the other...it only serves to make his blood boil even harder.

As does the smallest implication that Ali had suffered a similar (if not quite as terrible) fate.

Cotton returns with the first aid kit in both of his shadowy hands, and Cal glances at it for a long moment. The shade's head nods once, slowly, as if encouraging its owner to do as he's been asked. Cal closes his eyes, sighs softly through his nose, and then moves to very carefully pick Les up bridal style so he can carry him towards the nearby restroom. Once there, he sets Les down, standing (with Cal's support) with his back to the showerhead. He reaches down and turns on the faucet, letting the water run into the tub so it can reach a decent temperature...

...and then, he pauses. "...I need to undress you. Is that alright?"

Meanwhile, the shade turns its green gaze to Ali before holding out the kit in offering. It may only be a reflection of Cal, and it may only have those big bright eyes as a facial feature, but the droop of its ears and how those eyes turn into sideways crescents coveys that it, too, is concerned.

ritzy-cervidae​:

smiledotdeer​:

Luckily, by the time Les’ legs give out, Cal has moved from his back to stand in front of him instead, so he’s there to catch him before he falls very far. He lets out a soft, startled gasp of his own when it happens, but despite his shock he’s still quick about tucking both arms around his twin and maneuvering him towards the nearby couch so he can lay him down.

“Cotton,” he starts, making his shade’s ears perk up, “get the kit.”

“First aid, or…?”

“First aid. For now.”

The shadow’s neon green eyes blink slowly before it nods in acknowledgement and floats off, towards the nearby bathroom on the lower floor. Meanwhile, Cal stays settled on his knees next to Les’ head so he can stay close.

“You can rest easier, sweetheart. You’re safe here. No one can get in without my knowing…or giving them a fight.”

Cal was moving to fast for Les’ mind to keep up.. confusing him even more but… oh he had been falling and his twin caught him…. He smelled good… and he felt almost cold against his painfully hot drugged body and abused face.

The second his ass and tail touched the couch though Les gave a out a hoarse scream of agony and his back arched slightly off the couch before going limp shaking violently from the pain shooting knives into his guts…. he had experienced pain…. liked getting stabbed….eaten…. but not this…not this ….not ᵗʰᶦˢ…

“ᶜ⁻ᶜᵃˡ …….ᶜ⁻ᶜᵃⁿ…ᴵ ᵘ⁻ᵘˢᵉ….ʸ⁻ʸᵒᵘʳ…. ˢ⁻ˢʰᵒʷ⁻ᵉʳˀ” just that much was tearing his raw throat but he felt dirty… inside and out… black tears continued to fall from dilated eyes the black fading into the darkening purple bruises that lined Les cheeks and frowning mouth….. leather pattern clear in the bruising…. it looked like a shadow outline of a gag.

                     Oh to be so woefully ignorant to the smell that wafted into his room at this hour. Keen nose catching the familiar scent of a drug he was unfortunately familiar with on almost a cellular level. However, whomever this was, hadn’t been as fortunate as he was it seemed. At first he’s not too worried about moving. There were a number of people this could be. A lot of which he wasn’t acquainted with personally. And moments like this, well, they could be delicate…. Much too delicate for claws such as his.

But it’s too quiet. Almost deathly so. Like a thin veil of despair had blanketed itself over the whole vicinity, yet somehow only effected one. It’s not until his sensitive ears catch the sound of the voice, that he jumps up from his place in to room-turned-study and practically manifests outside of the room far too quickly not to cause at least some startle. (1Shadows tend to unnerve the already broken.) He’s already at Cal’s side before another word can be spoken, and in the next, bending down to get a better look at the beaten Alternative.

Could no one else smell that…? that wretched, rotten smell that invaded his senses and made his skin boil. Static threatening to cut through the air deeper than any knife. He has to lower his own frequency to make sure everything in the vacinity doesn’t shatter the moment he speaks. “Cal, do not let him shower alone. I don’t know him well enough so listen very closely. He’s been drugged I can smell it I know what that smells like I-…. that’s not important. What is important is that you calm him down as soon as possible. There’s not much to be done other than clean him up and make him comfortable until this passes. Seeing as how it can not kill him, and we have no way of knowing what exactly was given to him, we’re in for a long night.

I’ll work on something for the pain.”

[concubuck]

"What's going on out here?"

Buck hadn't been too alarmed when the baby woke him and Cal wasn't in bed anymore—maybe he'd gotten up to use the toilet, maybe he'd gone to his office. But Buck had felt another alternate nearby that didn't belong to the household, and he smelled blood and sex (more so than usual), and he'd heard low, tense voices and screams.

So as soon as he'd gotten his junebug fed, he got dressed (more dressed than usual—buttoned-up long-sleeve pajama top and pants (Cal's), and a dressing robe, and his human sinner disguise to boot), and ducked out of the room with a nodding-off baby still in his arms, and looked for answers.

"Not having a good time without me, are you?" At the moment, all he knows about the situation is the smell of it. "That's a joke—it's fine if you are, of course. Just, ah... Well, what is happening?" His tone had grown more sober as it slowly dawned on him that something was wrong.

@smiledotdeer @ritzy-cervidae

[strangeandun-muse-ual]

HISSSSSSS.

[hellizens-aa]

@ritzy-cervidae (from here!)

“Excellent indeed!” comes the voice again. That’s DEFINITELY the radio talking. “Thanks for pickin’ me up, fella! I’ve been sitting on that shelf untouched for years! No one appreciates antiques anymore, I tell ya!”