miratenebrarum

[miratenebrarum]

#• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ musing&aesthetic ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴄᴇɴᴀʀʏ ]) 👁 ([ cahara ] • #q

[miratenebrarum]

#• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ musing&aesthetic ] • #q #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏᴍᴀɴ ]) 👁 ([ dismas ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʟʏɪɴɢ ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛ ]) 👁 ([ pinocchio ] •

[miratenebrarum]

〞 FEAR THE OLD BLOOD

by the gods, fear it, Laurence 〟

heavily headcanon-based ;; 18+ only non-mutuals, OCs and crossover friendly

| ☾ | RULES | ☾ | ABOUT | ☾ | TAGS | ☾ | CREDITS | ☾ |

⇄ if you’re interested ; personals please don’t interact

#update his promo hi #• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ promo ] • #• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ ooc ] •

[miratenebrarum]

Tell me why my muse would get cancelled

#• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ ask meme ] • #q

[miratenebrarum]

@riiese

[ cont ]

What an odd, odd day this one is already turning out to be.

Pinocchio rarely walked away from the town, following the orders requests of his father to always stay close enough to help - and get helped - if necessary... and yet, today he felt mischevious. Curious.

Gemini barely had the time to remind him that curiosity had the quite annoying tendency to kill cats, and the puppet was ready to reply that he, in fact, happened to not be one, when, likely because he ended up touching something, the little cottage he went ransaking started creaking, sawying, dropping dust from the ceiling... and then, with a loud "I KNEW IT!" coming from the cricket, collapsing.

He wasn't sure for how long he remained under there, but while it didn't hurt much, he clearly was as uncomfortable as he could be - especially since his left arm seemed to be bent in a quite unnatural position - ...but he wasn't dead. He wasn't dead, and as far as he knew, he was saved just a handful of minutes after that little catastrophe by, as Gemini immediately noted...

"Huh. That's one big fella."

Pinocchio saw puppets almost as big in the past, and immediately deduced this guy was one of them. A particularly kind one, for a change, even if he didn't introduce himself. Might as well be just as civil, assure him he's fine, thank him, and--

crack.

And with but a movement, the robotic arm gave up on him, breaking in half and falling miserably on the ground.

"..."

Well, he's fine. But that's annoying.

"It wasn't painful." half an answer, really, followed once again by the same three words he uttered a few seconds before "Who are you?"

#• [ ɴᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ interactions ] • #• [ ʟɪᴇs ᴏғ ᴘ ]) 👁 ([ gameverse ] • #riiese #HEY GANG GUESS WHO DISCOVERED I CAN CUT ASKS #i hope it doesnt break fnadmsg #q

[miratenebrarum]

...ah. There it is.

Dismas finished digging, and was all but ready to return to the tavern, drink the night away, and possibly try to faint for two or three hours before returning in the maze of horrors that surrounded the Hamlet, when the stranger once again spoke up, stopping him on his track, his lips perked ever so slightly and an eyebrow risen.

He considered feigning ignorance for some long, sweet seconds. Pretending he knew nothing of the Heir to that throne of crap, the estate... but if he knows the fools who dare to consider dungeon dwelling good - him, the biggest fool out there, and the others back at the Hamlet (or, at least, the ones who don't sleep six feet under) for the most much less vague than him - he'd find the other again in the matter of a few days.

"Not enough." he spat eventually, letting out a loud groan as moved the shovel from his shoulder, now using it as a cane to rest on as he pointed the finger of the free hand towards the stranger "And if ye have anythin' to live for, don't think too much about that. Take th' first caravan ye find and get out of this dump."

Another groan, this time much more somber.

"No gold is worth that crap."

Oh, how much he hates playing the good guy. A few more seconds, and he sighs once more.

"But if ye have a death wish, I can't stop ye, now, aye? I'm just some guy diggin' graves in th' middle o' th' woods, after all."

"...fair enough." Vayu had gotten entirely too comfortable for someone who wasn't exactly home-grown here.

"...not... that new," he muttered, before he fell silent and looked the other way. The woods were lovely, dark, deep, and supported him where he stood, for now. Much better viewing than a fresh grave anyway. Not much more to say on Vayu's part, really.

Still, the answer nagged at him. It seemed there were quite a lot of folks coming in for business (personal business even), and quite a few of them were employed by the same estate. Or what's left of it, anyways. Now, it was hardly guaranteed that this man was among the rogues and misfits who worked for The Heir, but if he did...

...he had the feeling asking if he had met anyone calling themselves a 'druid' or 'priestess of the wilds' would merely invite more scoffing. Some things one could only investigate alone.

After a comfortable stretch of silence, Vayu turned his gaze back to Dismas and asked,

"Out of the blue, but- you know if the estate-delving pays well at all?"

He probably could have said it more diplomatically, but. Hunting was probably not going to support him for much longer.

#• [ ɴᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ interactions ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏᴍᴀɴ ]) 👁 ([ dismas ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴍʟᴇᴛ ]) 👁 ([ darkest dungeon ] • #q #halfdeadsacrifice

[miratenebrarum]

"I-I was insistin' the opposite, toots! The OPPOSITE!!

It wasn't insinstin' it was FEAR I was AFRAID ya would just up 'n leave-- c'mon y'know me there's gotta be some drama--"

Ughhh, this woman! Why, yes, she is a problem, she is distracting, and she is so, so many other fun little adjectives, but...

"...but you're MY problematic, distracting and perfect Toon full of adjectives! Who wouldn't be terrified that this an angel like ya wouldn't just up and fly to better sketchbooks?!"

In another moment, maybe he would understand her dastardly little plan, realize that he fell for his tricks, look straight at the camera and let out a loud and offended HOLD ON JUST A SECOND!!!! and manage to bring the situation in his advantage... but, oh, can't you hear her? She's stuttering, the poor thing! He broke her heart in half, clearly!

The moment of realization will remain for the post-credits scene.

"PLEASE, toots! Forgive my dumb little adorable mouth!!!!"

--huh. He actually got on his knees after all, almost dragging her on the floor with him. Why, yes, he is a God and should be treated as such... but what's a God without his Saints?!

Ah, there we go.

The moment his hand took hold of hers, she knew. Hook. Line. Sinker.

"You were INSISTING I would leave you! As if you were trying to CONVINCE me!" she'd defend. The irony of it all is most certainly lost upon them.

Her free hand goes to wipe a fake tear from her eye, keeping her gaze toward the floor in faux shame. "I-I know I cause some problems, like with Sammy, and-and I know I can be a bit DISTRACTING - " Understatement of the year - "but, but I do love you! And-and I care about this cult you've built- and-- and--" She'd begin to trip over her own words. On purpose, of course. How she turned this whole argument around to now focus on the consoling of her. While the attention is definitely beneficial - she could always use more words of validation and affection - it also got Bendy to get over his whole dramatic shtick.

Hey, aren't all religious figures, both in text and the real world, all hypocritical, manipulative, gaslighters? She's just playing the part she was given and by God, as always, she strides to play it well.

#deathxdefied #AWFUL. THE BOTH OF THEM #• [ ɴᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ interactions ] • #• [ sᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʙʟᴀsᴘʜᴇᴍʏ ]) 👁 ([ x deathdefied | bendy & alice ] • #q

[miratenebrarum]

• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ ships tag dump ] •

Bendy ships

• [ sᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʙʟᴀsᴘʜᴇᴍʏ ]) 👁 ([ x deathdefied | bendy & alice ] •

#tag dump #• [ sᴡᴇᴇᴛ ʙʟᴀsᴘʜᴇᴍʏ ]) 👁 ([ x deathdefied | bendy & alice ] •

[miratenebrarum]

[ # VANISHRS ] independent & highly private scp foundation original character. by ash.

#• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ promo ] • #q

[miratenebrarum]

...are they done? He hoped they were done. He's never been a talkative fellow, and even less when he was almost busted digging shallow graves.

He couldn't help but let out a small snort - a sigh - when the other kept talking, however, question him further, not unaware that behind that small question he probably held in God knows how many more.

"Then ye must be quite new, 'round here."

Hey, now. He didn't come back to his shitty hometown just to be treated like a stranger. Granted, most of his life before leaving - and, going against any logical thought, returned to that shithole - was spent far away from the Hamlet, hidden in those same woods along Vvulf and his gang of bastards, but that was still quite rude.

"...business." he eventually answers. Pauses. "Personal. Business.

Lesser men would kill ye if ye ask 'em too many questions, pal."

That wasn't meant to be a threat. More like a hint, given by experience.

...is that where the wolves have been going? Colour him very, very concerned.

Vayu habitually broke eye contact, and glanced off to the side. "Could ask the same of you. I was coming home from a hunt."

(Not a successful one, but that was shockingly not the greatest of his gnawing anxieties. The forest had felt like it was slowly emptying out for a while now, but today he'd found a bird with unfamiliar fungi growing out of a wound that stretched over its entire thin body, its wings twitching as if still trying to fly...)

It had been a long day. He took another step back, crossed his arms and leaned against the nearest tree. This was enough distance, he supposed.

"I don't recall seeing you around these parts," he continued. "Then again, I don't go to town enough. When'd you come here?"

And for what?, he was tempted to ask.

#• [ ɴᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ interactions ] • #halfdeadsacrifice #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏᴍᴀɴ ]) 👁 ([ dismas ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴍʟᴇᴛ ]) 👁 ([ darkest dungeon ] • #q

[miratenebrarum]

"...are they?"

Again, not the first time he hears something like this - and not the first time he's confused by that statement. He likes them, of course. They're a good memory, they're his, but, always according to the inventor, they're 'a little messy and unkempt, all over the place, and he should invest into a nice bow and some conditioner', whatever the latter is.

Frowning a bit, Pinocchio can't help buy wonder if people said the same about Sophia's hair.

"Come on, pal!" the mechanical cricket held on the belt's lantern chirps, forcing the admittedly awkward two seconds silence to finally break. "What do we say?"

"...don't baby me." a pout, a deep breath, and he looks down at the kid again "Thank you." "...and...?" "Your hair are nice too."

The last comment feels a little bit forced. Being polite can be a chore.

Olga gazes at him for a long time, wringing her hands and trying to think of something to say. Maybe next time you should use a compliment instead of pointing out the obvious, she thinks to herself.

"All I meant..." She says, wishing she didn't stumble over her words so much. "All I meant was that it's very pretty."

#• [ ɴᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ interactions ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʟʏɪɴɢ ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛ ]) 👁 ([ pinocchio ] • #• [ ʀɪsᴇ ᴏғ ᴘ ]) 👁 ([ post game ] • #frcstbittenheart

[miratenebrarum]

A scoff, maybe similar to a chuckle. Good. It worked so far. Let's just keep up with the lies.

"Tell me 'bout it."

Kicking the hand further under the ground, Dismas let out a loud sigh. It was... an admittedly crappy job. Audrey was the good digger, after all, he just did the dirty work that brought people in their grave in the first place, so this poor corpse will have to accept this final resting place.

It's not like he could complain, anyway.

...hopefully.

"Aye, well. As long as the wolves ye meet are on their own and without a trainer, anyway." he grumbled, his voice still a little slurry from the night before, spent in the tavern, drowning his sorrows. Goddamn headache making him not even hear steps coming in. "..." his eyes lifted, slowly, meeting the stranger's once more. Might as well keep up this friendly persona for a little longer. "Why are ye in th' woods, anyway. Got lost?"

Vayu cast down his eyes and stared at the scene for another moment.

The most cynical part of him thought that story sounded entirely too conveniently altruistic, especially for these parts, especially with all that blood. But, he didn't want to make a habit of listening to his worst impulses about others -- if he had to choose between helping a liar or shunning an innocent, well, he'd rather risk being a sucker.

He glanced up and gave a sympathetic nod. Besides...

"You too? The brigands around here are getting greedier by the day," he commiserated. "For blood and gold."

His eye wandered down to the hand just barely visible through the dark of the night, the dirt that clung to it, and the gravedigger's boot atop it. He paused, and squinted. No twitching he could see. Yet.

"Doesn't help that wolf food's not the worst fate for the dead these days," he muttered. (At least it would feed the wolves, after all.)

#• [ ɴᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ interactions ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏᴍᴀɴ ]) 👁 ([ dismas ] • #halfdeadsacrifice #q #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴍʟᴇᴛ ]) 👁 ([ darkest dungeon ] •

[miratenebrarum]

*walks into your house* its quite lovely in here i *spots a ghostly apparition* ...................well first who is that saultry little binch in the corner

#• [ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴄᴇɴᴀʀʏ ]) 👁 ([ cahara ] • #• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ musing&aesthetic ] • #q

[miratenebrarum]

@picavecalyx

[ x ]

"That stubborness."

She asked, he answered, still with that distant, almost disinterested tone, one without emotion - or, at least, way less emotions than anything that wasn't a puppet he met so far -, and yet undeniably curious, confused, interested. The interest of a child, the confusion that comes with the fact that someone wanted to be his friend, without him really giving any sign of desiring that, or doing something to gain it.

After all, so far, most of the people who acted nicely towards him started doing it after he gave them something, or after he promised them he would. His father included.

"Because you keep following me and acting friendly. It's weird."

#• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʟʏɪɴɢ ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛ ]) 👁 ([ pinocchio ] • #• [ ɴᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ interactions ] • #• [ ʟɪᴇs ᴏғ ᴘ ]) 👁 ([ gameverse ] • #no but nami you dont understand the parallelism between these two im (explodes) #q

[miratenebrarum]

@halfdeadsacrifice

[ cont. ]

...awkward.

Dismas stood still, the shovel still halfway in the dirt, a foot trying to push down a hand that dared to try and sneak out of the shallow grave he was digging. Yes, there was indeed blood - mostly not his own, still fresh, still dripping from his dagger -, and yes, he was in a fight - if he could call a surprise assault like that a fight to begin with, anyway. It began as it ended: fast, sudden, bloody. If anything, now he had more money in his pockets.

... ...screw this. This wasn't awkard. This was, in fact, quite the issue. Maybe he should just cut the stranger's throat as well and move on with his day. That would surely fix all his problem, even if last thing he needed was adding an unnecessary extra corpse in his list.

"...aye, had to deal wit' thieves."

...or. Or. He could try to lie his way out of this.

If that failed, violence was still on the table.

"Those damned killed this poor bastard before runnin' away." he shrugged, returning fill that hole as if it was nothing. "Just givin' 'im a somewhat proper grave rather than turnin' 'im in wolf food."

#halfdeadsacrifice #• [ ɴᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ interactions ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏᴍᴀɴ ]) 👁 ([ dismas ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴍʟᴇᴛ ]) 👁 ([ darkest dungeon ] • #q

[miratenebrarum]

@reddeadmenace

"Is that your blood?" for Cahara

"...is that a rethoric question?"

Shaky breath escapes his lips, in and out, slow, as if he expected every one of them to be his last. A little dramatic, perhaps. He got out of much worse situations, but even a seasoned mercenary like him could see the big, deep stab wound on his side - the same one that forced him on the ground, his back against the wall, a hand on the ever growing red stain on his vest and the other blindly looking for any scrap of cloth he could find that could stop the bleeding - was far from good news.

"...yes. It's mine." he eventually sighs, then hisses sharply, through gritted teeth.

It's not lethal, Cahara. Not yet, at least. Get a grip.

"And it's quite... embarrassing, to be seen with that all over the place rather than. Inside me." a forced chuckle, as emotionless as it could be "Awkward."

#reddeadmenace #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴄᴇɴᴀʀʏ ]) 👁 ([ cahara ] • #• [ ɴᴏ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇ ]) 👁 ([ interactions ] • #q

[miratenebrarum]

— Marya Hornbacher, Madness: A Bipolar Life

#• [ ᴀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴏᴜᴛ ]) 👁 ([ musing&aesthetic ] • #• [ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏᴍᴀɴ ]) 👁 ([ dismas ] • #q