#theheadlessgroom

[beatingheart-bride]

RP: Genderbent

@theheadlessgroom

It was a blazing hot summer day like any other throughout the city of New Orleans. As always, Mickey's Haberdashery was bustling with potential customers looking to commission garments, and employees working away at garments that had been commissioned in the not-so-distant past.

But not to say it was completely professional: as the employees chipped away at their current projects (admittedly at a somewhat leisurely pace), they passed the time gossiping back and fourth about all of the city's most attention-catching news, especially news concerning the city's elite.

"...did you hear he turned someone down again?" one seamstress asked another, sounding impeccably like a schoolgirl gossiping over lunch.

"That eternal bachelor, Philippe de Claire?" inquired another, to which the first one nodded.

"The one and only! This time he turned down Nicola Pennyworth, the daughter of a banker. I swear, he must've gone through every well-to-do broad in Louisiana by now! No one is good enough for him: he sounds like an insufferable fop, if you ask me."

"I don't know," a third seamstress spoke up, flashing the others a coy grin. "Maybe he just hasn't met the right girl: I'll bet I could have him wrapped around my finger in no time."

Finally, out came Mickey, his face stern as he marched over to the trio of seamstresses who had gathered around one of the haberdashery's work tables.

"I don't give a damn about that de Claire boy and his love life," Mickey huffed, his palm meeting the wooden table with a dull thud. "And I don't pay you to run your mouths! Stop yapping, and get back to work!"

[erika-de-claire]

{Starter for @theheadlessgroom }

Starter Call: https://www.tumblr.com/eviesheart/725057276097036288

Exhausted, mentally and emotionally that was one way to describe the current state of one Erika De Claire Pace. It simply seemed that the ghostly teenager could not get a break…

The disappearance of her father was one thing, but the equally mysterious disappearance of her mother accompanied by an entirely different Ghost Bride in the attic- primarily one that especially didn’t like her- Erika had found herself in quite the unique dynamic. Missing both of her parents, and stuck with a Black Widow Bride who truly saw her as nothing more than an inconvenience. The attic was an entirely new place at this point on, and all Erika could do was endure.

It was an evening like any other in the attic of Gracey Manor. Constance was out socializing with other haunts which gave Erika a moment of peace from the ghastly woman- though seeing her face on the various portraits didn’t do much for comfort. The sound of a single heartbeat resounded through the attic as Erika sat in one of the attic’s chairs, a small huff escaping her lips. One unfortunate thing about living in an attic meant you occasionally had run ins with moths- moths that liked to eat away at your lacy dresses. But it was nothing a lovely embroidered flower or two couldn’t fix.

Yes, this was what life had become in the attic, and for Erika she was not anticipating anything to change. But oh, was she gonna be amazed by what was waiting in store for her on this seemingly regular old evening in Gracey Manor.

Perhaps a day she had been waiting for for years….

@theheadlessgroom

[askthebrokenones-fm]

(((crawls out of hell with this) @theheadlessgroom It's been a bit since I did Sinclair interacting with Randall-

[beatingheart-bride]

The Paces and Burkes spent hours at the table, remaining there long after breakfast had come to an end. Eventually, however, the family temporarily had to disband to allow Wilhelm's older brothers and June's parents a chance to settle in to their guest rooms, where they'd be staying throughout the duration of their visit. June and Wilhelm had briefly retreated to their own room, leaving Randall, Emily and the children to spend some time by themselves in the attic.

The twins had been put down for a nap following such an eventful morning, and as they dozed peacefully in their shared bedroom, Randall and Emily remained awake within the main attic. Finally, as they sat together on the old sofa, they had an opportunity to chat, just the two of them.

"You seemed...distant this morning," Emily remarked with a soft frown. "I know you said that everything's alright...but are you sure? You barely said a word over breakfast."

@beatingheart-bride

"Hmm? O-Oh, yes, my heart," Randall smiled, having snapped out of his stupor upon hearing her whisper in his ear enough to return to the conversation, taking Emily's hand to kiss as he assured, "I'm...I'm fine."

Truthfully, his head was reeling from all of this new family suddenly showing up out of the blue, and he was a little unsure of what to say or think. Of course, it felt good to see his parents happy; Wilhelm was thrilled, beaming from ear to ear as he caught up with his brothers, while June was showing off her humble wedding ring to her parents as she filled them in on her life following their passing...it was a sweet sight to see, considering how lonesome their lives were in New Orleans, with very few friends and no family to turn to...

And of course, it was good to see the children were being welcomed too: Lon was clearly thrilled to meet another set of twins like him and his sister, and Erika, well...he understood. It was a lot to take in, a lot of new and unfamiliar faces, even with the knowledge that they were kin, and so he couldn't blame her for being a little shy around them. He just hoped, given enough time, a little patience, she'd become more comfortable around them.

And to be quite honest, he hoped he'd become comfortable around them too, given a little time-it was just so...surreal, meeting his grandparents, his uncles, people he only ever saw in portraits, heard about in stories relayed to him by his folks, people he never dreamed he'd ever meet. And all he could think in regards to that was:

What do they think of...me?

But he tried not to dwell on that notion, in favor of holding his wife's hand and taking another sip of coffee, smiling politely at his grandmother's enthusiasm ("Oh, we have another sewing aficionado in the family! Isn't that exciting, August?") as he tried to keep his head from spinning off like a runaway top.

[asktheghosthost]

May I ask Hatty something? ( besides I think I’m spelling his nickname wrong hehe!)

Hey Hatty? How come you don’t just make a 50/50 deal with Constance where she’s gets 50% of the attic and you get 50%?

Unless you two are monsters and prefer not to share then yeah, be like that, but being mean has consequences, and I’m talking from personal experience buddy! ( yeah I got in trouble for the first time today)

Just ask her the deal and the we’ll see what happens, okay?

"Personally," said Dorian, "I think that is a most excellent idea! Petty rivalries are most unbecoming, wouldn't you agree?" He puckered his lips, practically feeling the annoyed vibes from the others. "But, ah, a-heh, I'll punt this over to Hatty himself to answer!"

@askthehatboxghost @theheadlessgroom

[daughterofhatboxghost]

I’m going to add something to this I’m a GHOST  DiNOSAUR RAWW!

@askthehatboxghost

@ask-the-hatbox-ghost

@thehattersdaughter

@erika-de-claire

@strange-doll-child

@theheadlessgroom

[lovely-lotte]

“What flower have you blossomed into?”

Tagged by: @composer-of-the-night

a lotus flower, glimmering a dark pond

“seeing the mud around a lotus is pessimism, seeing a lotus in the mud is optimism.” ― amit kalantri, wealth of words — you're writing to your inner child because you want to show gratitude, paying homage to the ugly, murky waters that you've grown up in. perhaps you've experienced some of the rough conditions throughout your life at home or even in your own community/heritage overall. but despite this, you've learned how to rise above all of the adversity, as you've anchored your roots into the mud, just so that you could stay afloat and swift beautifully throughout life. remember, the muddy water never touches the inside of the lotus flower, as the layers of petals protects the purity from within.

Tagging: @theheadlessgroom @wandering-child-rp @amantesmultorum

[brassisjustbetterguys]

Our vote is…

@ireallyliketacosokay

@asktheghosthost

@loki-laufeychild

@asgardiangirll

@americas-favourite-fossil

@artistfromminnesota

@theheadlessgroom

@heyyesimtrash-whatofit

and lastly

@thir-0dinson

We thank you all for being a part in our lives.

Give this to one of your most loved mutual

Mines r: @jadescortaurius1 @thevisitmaxxedfriend @misschuckito @ethanthespookymonth @softwolfiee

[beatingheart-bride]

@theheadlessgroom

Afterlife at Gracey Manor felt like a dream come true. The Pace family had long since settled into their life of domesticity within its walls. It had been over five years since June and Wilhelm had first entered the mansion's front door, and the family had never been happier. Leonidas and Erika were about to celebrate their fifth birthday, five years that had been nothing short of heaven on earth for Randall and Emily.

With all three generations of Paces residing under the same roof (to say nothing of the Graceys also being family through everything but blood), it felt like the afterlife couldn't get any better. It was a peaceful existence, one full of all of the love and family that they'd been robbed of during life.

It was the early morning, and the Paces had just made their way down to the ballroom for breakfast: through the grapevine, they heard whispers of visitors having arrived from overseas. It had been a great while since the last visitor passed through Gracey Manor's walls, and thus the news of a new visitor's arrival was enough to pique the Pace's curiosity.

"Overseas is a long way to travel to visit the manor," Emily remarked as she and the rest of the family headed towards an empty table to take a seat for their morning meal. "I wonder what brought them here?"

[erika-de-claire]

⭐️, please! -theheadlessgroom

//Of course!

HEADCANON:

When Erika was little, if she was ever upset about something, one of the best things that would cheer her up or make her laugh was Randall’s signature head trick, transferring it from his body to his hatbox. Something about it was so unbelievably funny to the little ghost girl.

One could only imagine how funny she found it when she learned she had the same ability to remove her own head. She was also quite young upon learning that, and the first thing she did was rush off to show her father that she too, could master his trick.\\

[asktheredheadedfeline]

@theheadlessgroom

👀

[ghostofbayous]

From |X| @theheadlessgroom “What’s a knight?” She stared at him blankly, “Are you undead?”  This was freaking her out, she had no idea what ghosts were and why they were here. They spooked her to say the least. She had had many run ins with undead and skeletons but ghosts were what did it.  “What’s a phantasm?” This was all confusing her, she was a bit worried about why she was in here. 

[thegrimgrinningorganist-archives]

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@theheadlessgroom

[thefuriousmagician]

So, here’s all the Hatties I have down so far for the Bloodborne au. Here’s some brief descriptions of what I have in mind for them under the cut ‘cause it got too long. (Thomas is @askthehatboxghost‘s, Horatio is @ask-the-hatbox-ghost‘s, Randall is @theheadlessgroom‘s, and The Shadow (Hatty) is @theshadowofthechateau‘s)

Thomas Gracey: Thomas Gracey, following in his mother’s side of the family’s heritage after the death of his father, joined the Healing Church of Yharnam early in age. He managed to make it to the elite delegation, the Choir. He serves as the guardian and main scholar of the laboratory in Bygenwerth. Thomas has in his possession the Augur of Ebrietas, which allows him to summon ethereal tentacles for defense as well as a multitude of other spells contained in his journal. Thomas dislikes using guns and practical weapons, viewing them as a hassle and unnecessarily brutal.

Horatio Topper: A pure blood Yharnamite, Horatio admittedly acts like he isn’t in an apocalypse. But an apocalypse never mattered to him - there’s always a proper time for hats after all, so he goes around selling homemade hats to forlorn hunters (or beasts if a werewolf wants one and doesn’t try to eat his face off). He’s simply living life, selling and making hats. Horatio has a threaded cane but rarely uses it, due to him needing it to walk on account of a bum leg. However he often uses his rifle if ever pressured and can’t flee which shoots abnormally powerful quicksilver bullets thanks to his seemingly endless supply of bone marrow ash and blood tinge. (Carries 40 bullets rather than the usual 20 for most hunters)

Randall Pace: Randall is the husband of a rather successful and efficient crow hunter (Emily the Crow) and owns a haberdashery that doubles as a inn specifically for hunters. He wants to help anyway he can in the Hunt; providing lodging and his own services are a sure fire way of accomplishing this goal. Admittedly new to hunting and going with his wife a majority of the time, he still believes he’ll be able to go on his own eventually. He carries a threaded cane and Evelyn from his wife’s travels through Yharnam’s surrounding territories (that he really doesn’t know how to use fantastically (He’s trying)). Therefore he resorts to his personal brass knuckles occasionally. He has a belt that can hold an abnormal 30 blood vials compared to the normal 20 stock.

The Shadow of Cainhurst: Many people debate on who or what exactly the Shadow is. It isn’t a Great One, but its not entirely beast and many debate if it was ever human in the first place. All they know is it has an adulation with Madame Alma Vileblood, making it impossible to reach the sobbing widow. And it can speak! That’s new. It has control of a majority of Cainhurst Castle, including the ghosts and specters inside leftover from the executioners’ reign of terror. The Shadow can summon snakes from it’s shadowy body which are heavily venomous. These snakes are not solid beings, making it possible for them to go through walls and bite unsuspecting hunters. It can summon a shadowy scythe that gives both physical and psychological damage.

The Composer of Symphonies: The Composer is a lesser Great One from before the murder of Kosm. He was created originally to be a hunchman of sorts to Kos, but after Her death by the old hunters he was reduced to a being without purpose other than to avenge her death. He therefore despises hunters with a powerful malice, and aims to bring them all a living hell. The Composer lurks in Old Yharnam and Yahar'gul, often in churches, especially those with surviving musical instruments. He tends to wear human clothes, mostly because he enjoys the texture but he also wants to seem more human or beast-like to trick hunters into engaging him. Eventually, the lesser One is bound by Sinclair the Conductor and kept as a companion of sorts. The Composer can easily manipulate his surroundings, creating a mirror world to better confuse his opponents. He often manipulates and puts his victims through grueling mental torture to weaken them before killing them and using their remains to make new instruments for his collection.

[devilshenanigans-fm]

The emoji doesn't seem to be showing up, but just the same: Portal AU, please! -theheadlessgroom

Death expected it to be a normal day; just the usual: reaping, walking, reaping... And then a ghost literally got flung out of a strange portal at them, easily bowling them over.

The sentient grunted, the exoskeleton like skin they had clacking on the ground. They groaned lowly, staring up at Randall with glowing white eyes, “Ugh... salutare... Cum... De unde ai venit?”

[beatingheart-bride]

☎ , 💤, 📖, 📱, and ✔️, please! -theheadlessgroom

☎-

Name: Randall 🖤 Ringtone: "Our House" by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young Picture: A close-up of Randall from a recent family photo (the twins' pictures are of their close-ups, as well) Text: "There's a late-night showing of Lon Chaney's 'Phantom' at the theater next Saturday. Do you think it would be worth seeing?"

💤-

"No, Randall, don't eat all of the strawberries...we won't have enough left over for the strawberry shortcake tonight...."

📖-

"I met the most interesting man today. Nicholas took me to the haberdashery to look for a new hat, and he ended up blowing up on one of the poor employees. Naturally, I apologized on his behalf, and ended up commissioning my wedding veil instead.

When he was inquiring about the details of my commission, we got to talk a little; he told me his name was Randall. He seemed to be surprised when I asked him for it.

I'm not sure why, but I can't help but feel drawn to him. He was very sweet, but there was a melancholy aura to him, as well. He seemed tired: I wouldn't be surprised if he was overworked. I didn't want to keep him too long, so once he had all of the information he needed, Nicholas and I left the shop.

A part of me wishes I could have stayed back and chatted with Randall more...perhaps I'll go back to the haberdashery tomorrow, under the guise of checking up on my veil."

📱-

"Dearest, do you think that you could take the kids to school on Tuesday? I just remembered that I have a hair appointment, it was the only time the hairdresser had available. I love you."

✔️-

"You know, I had the strangest dream last night: I dreamed that I was the queen of the fae! I found you lost in the woods, and I took you to my home before I helped you find your way back into town. You were so terrified of me at first, but I gained your trust in the end. When I first found you, you begged me not to turn you into a toadstool!"