#like it would ve really practical because they would be anonymous and blood letting was a common method | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flos-timore · 4 years

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Send me a 🥃 + a question for my muse to answer. If they refuse to answer, they have to take a shot // Still Accepting!

Anonymous asked : 🥃 Habit, here's a hypothetical question for you. If your Habitat started to go way downhill, but wasn't a lost cause yet, and you had to resort to more extreme and harmful measures to keep your Habiticians in line, what wouldn't you do?

At once, almost on instinct, Habit feels his breath hitch. Was it possible for air to get caught in somebody’s chest? Well, the question hadn’t even been fully processed before everything decided to lock up, on him.

‘Why was that?’, he wondered briefly. Uselessly. In fact, he wasn’t even sure WHY he’d bothered to let himself pull the wool over his own eyes; if even for only a second. He KNEW exactly why his hands balled up into fists, exactly why dread was solidifying in his stomach.

And yet... he had to glance away, towards the balcony. It was just natural, really, whenever anybody mentioned the Habiticians while he happened to be in his office.

Or. Well.

‘His’ Habiticians, as they had so eloquently put it.

The thought made him laugh. He forced himself to hate that fact.

Keeping the smile held tightly on his face, out of a necessity that he hadn’t even realized WAS a necessity, he took a moment to steel himself before walking over to where his line of sight drew him.

His heels clicked along the floor- an unwelcome change to the encompassing silence from just moments before.

--- “Hmmmmm.... You kno... That”s a “Good” question! Where 2 start with that...”

Content warning: Brief suicidal ideation, blood, and mentions of murder/corpses under the cut.

Heights had never been a problem for him. He never even really considered them enough for them to BECOME any sort of issue. While he could understand where the fear came from, for some people, so long as he knew the ground he stood on was relatively sturdy, he could be as high as the clouds and not have any cares in the world.

... Which is why he was confused when he came to a brief pause as he neared the balcony’s edge. Something about the location had begun to set him off, lately..

Perhaps it was the finality that such a fall would be responsible for. To say that he’d never considered jumping would be a lie, but-

He was quick to shake his head- push those thoughts away. Those were for another life. Not this one.

Habit “easily” (why couldn’t it be easy?) settled himself on the railing, eyes trailing down to the fairground below.

--- “What WOULDN”T I do, u said..?”

Maybe he’s stalling, maybe he’s not. You have no proof, as far as he’s concerned.

--- “Well...” He leans down further, practically resting his head on the cold metal. Although his attention darts around as he observes the day’s activity, he registers next to none of it.

--- “I suppose I wouldn’t wamnt them 2 think I”m trying two hard. Peeple tend to “Talk”, U see. Nothing like barb-ed wire or anythign sillie like That. The Habi-Tat is notn’t a Prison.”

Isn’t it?

--- “Perhapbs the “Curfew” wuld need to be much earlier..? I woould need to be patrolling more oftn than usual, that is 4 certain. Surve-a-lance would be “Upped”, also, of cuorse, but I thimnk I wouldn”t need to be TOO mean...”

--- “Even if the Habiticians TRIED to eskape, th Carlas would handel everything!”

Right. The machines he’d created to do his dirty work for him, because Heaven knows that if he had to be the one to subdue fleeing Habiticians, he wouldn’t stand much of a chance.

And not because he worried that he wouldn’t be strong enough! Really, if THAT was the only concern, he needed to only let himself forget just where he was putting his hands, and, well-

No. He disliked having to use brute force- especially when it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Call him what you’d like. He can guarantee that none of it would be too far off the mark.

What the Carlas lacked in speed and intelligence, they made up for in numbers. The ones always actively present on the grounds were FAR from the only ones in The Habitat.

Even though this situation was only hypothetical, Habit felt himself smirk, nonetheless; oddly proud of his own genius and security. Normally any talk of unrest among his “guests” sent him into a panic. He just simply would not have it!

Not in HIS domain. HIS creation. If something isn’t working, then!!! He’ll FIX it, and move on!!

But... ah... He had yet to really adequately answer the question at hand... Right..?

--- “..... I”m...”

Something felt- unfinished, here. Did he have more to truly SAY on the matter?

The sounds of Martha were louder than he remembered. He rationalized the reason behind that being his close proximity to her, as anybody would.

It just didn’t make them any less overwhelming, at the moment.

--- “I... don’t think violence is.. nece-ssary.. to maintain the “Peace”, I mean. The way that Im running things right now is good. Yes??”

Habit allows a brief lull to enter the “conversation”- just out of politeness. When no answer comes to his question, he can’t but to feel foolishly disheartened.

Only a little bit, though. Just a teeny tiny bit.

--- “I know this is only a “what if”- I get that. But the question is ridic-u-lous, 2 begin with!1!! Absurd!!!11! This groo-some scenariio will NEVER come two be!! So!!!! Why WORRIE about it!!!!”

And that’s where he INTENDED to quit talking. Honestly, he did. With every second that passed, he could feel the dam begin to break.

No, the topic itself didn’t bring him ANXIETY, per-say....

... but he WASN’T letting his thoughts lead to their obvious conclusion. That was the missing puzzle piece. That was the reason behind his sweaty palms and urge to be sick.

Habit was good at blocking out all of the unpleasant things about life. Sure, they almost always inevitably resurfaced, anyway, but the goal was never to be rid of them for good.

Merely to stall. Always to stall.

But that’s NOT what he’s doing, right now! Because there IS nothing more to discuss!! Nothing! Nada! Zilch!

--- “...”

He hadn’t noticed how tight his grip on the railing had gotten- had barely registered the tension in his shoulders as he leaned further. Further... JUST so he could look down, better. That’s all.

The daily lives of the Habiticians meant little to nothing to him. He was able to seamlessly gloss over Punching Girl as she pretended to, predictably, fight something. Or someone. He completely ignored Broccoli Child- nearly rolling his eyes at a less than pleasant memory regarding the trash he once tried to sell to him.

Nearly.

He hurried to turn away, to head back inside. He knew that if he lingered for any longer that the incessant WHINING of a certain resident would start back up, again. Perhaps it already had and he’d merely gotten beyond used to it.

Great. Cool. Love that.

--- “I THINK yuo are under-estimnating the work I”ve put into Thee Habitat. I know verie well how 2 control MY Habiticians, and if push comes two shove, I”m SURE I could-”

--- “........ I... could........ .................. ah...”

Something about his wording froze him in his tracks. He would’ve clamped his jaw shut if he had the gall to; would have bitten his tongue just to keep any more comments on the matter to himself.

The smile from before never once left his face. He disliked how heavy it felt- disliked the fact that he apparently felt the need to keep falling back into the hole he was so DESPERATELY trying to clamber back out of.

He’d said all he needed to say. He’d done his part!

Habit lowers his head, back turned to the outside world. A chill seeping into the room reminded him that he’d forgotten to close the door. He normally wouldn’t care about such a minute detail, but-

One quick glance towards the “operating room” is all he needs to change his mind. It’s bad ENOUGH that he’s allowing himself to become so overly fixated on everything that could go WRONG, and not go RIGHT!! Nobody else needs to accidentally overhear something they shouldn’t.

Hand shaking (shaking??), he pulls it away from the glass; job done, and steps unsteady as he attempts to backtrack. Literally.

Habit whirls back around, action abrupt as he gradually loses his initial train of thought. His breaths are a bit labored, like he’d just been running, somehow, and he wants to fix that. He wants, more than anything, to fix this entire situation.

Pathetic. One simple hypothetical had sent him into such a state?? Disgusting.

If he couldn’t handle the fire, then he shouldn’t have walked directly into the flames. He had what it took to run The Habitat. He took every precaution necessary.

‘If your Habitat started to go way downhill, but wasn't a lost cause yet, and you had to resort to more extreme and harmful measures to keep your Habiticians in line, what wouldn't you do?’

‘What WOULDN’T he do?’

--- “. . . If. . . push comes to SHOVE. . .”

He changes trajectory. Wandering around aimlessly certainly wouldn’t help anything, and suddenly, he feels very much so like cleaning something is in order. How often did he do that, anyway?

Not often enough, he decided, eyeing the grotesque red splotches.... just about everywhere he thought to look. On the chair, some on the floor-

HOW did he manage to get blood on the walls???

Habit reaches forward to grab the nearby mirror on the tray, having already pulled a cloth from one of his pockets. Yes, a cleaning day was definitely in order. A dirty workplace leads to a dirty outlook on life.

No wonder he’s so stressed.

--- “... Well,” he shrugs, “who is 2 say that there will bee any Habiticians TO keep in line?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he doesn’t find any relief in them, whatsoever. So he continues.

--- “Let me elab-or-ate. CORPSES have teeth. Right?”

He turns his head, then; absently searching for the spray bottle he swore he had sitting on the counter.

--- “Who cares if “The Big Event” is SKIPPED, all-2-gether? I would not be above that. No “waitiing” and no “gettiing their hopes up” 4 something that was falsely advertized.”

--- “So,” ah, there it is, “to answer you”r question:”

--- “Nothing!11!!! There are absolootely NO lengths that I womn”t go in order 2 enshure that I gather More Teeth!!1!! So WHAT if I need to “take out thee trash” all at once?? So WHAT if I “accidentally” get the dosage wrong? They will bee happily and giggily, and then....”

--- “......... they will not.”

“Sick” doesn’t even begin to cover how he feels, right about now. Does he sound casual while discussing this? How is he coming off as while he so flippantly talks about murder?

Cowardly? Psychopathic? ... Terrifying?

Is he terrifying? He must be. There’s no other explanation, in his mind.

--- “No skin off MY back!! At leest CORPSES do not cry!!”

Habit twirls back around to the counter where he’d grabbed the spray bottle, content smile betraying him as he gently sets it back where he found it.

--- “At leest CORPSES do not struggle!! When they FIN-A-LLY stop moviing, they cann”t tell me: “Yuou womn”t get awaY with THis!!!1!”. They can’t skream and run- they can”t do any-thing At All!1!!!”

And that’s the beauty of it. Or, at least, it SHOULD be.

--- “Once they set “Foot” into The Habitat, it isn”t like theyre Going 2 bee LEAVINGG it, anyway!! I”mmn not beeing CRUEL!!! What I do- it’s BRILL-I-ANT!! So WHY should I feel BAD??!?!?!”

Why, indeed?? Yes, WHY should he feel bad about cracking a few chickens to make a brand new healthy egg? What is the harm in it?

Nonexistent, as far as HE can tell!

--- “Thee answer is: I shouldn”t, annd I don’t! I hope thiss conversatioon was en-lit-ening 4 U! :-)”

So... there. He’s done. It’s over. Rant over. He- He’s said his share. Had his fill.

Of course, NOW he’s gone and gotten himself all riled up. Who knows how long it’ll take him to calm back down? Once he allows that little box in the back of his mind to open, this always happens.

Why do you think he’s so keen on keeping it nice and SHUT?

Autopilot becomes comforting after the hundredth time you shift into it. Habit continues about his business, cleaning the operating room while humming a jovial tune to himself.

The fact that he stumbles in his steps every now and then is unimportant. His pounding heart barely matters.

So long as he’s smiling, it’s IMPOSSIBLE to be upset!

Maybe if he believes that hard enough, it’ll be true.

#| Dr Habit - ιc ☢#| Dr Habit - qυeѕтιon anѕwered ☢#| Ask Meme #Anonymous #Smile For Me #Boris Habit #cw blood #cw suicidal thoughts #cw murder #ask to tag #Long Post #this is some of my WORST writing and this shouldn't have taken me two days but #have? it????#hope it's good haha i just #REALLY loved this question #thank you so much btw!!!!!!!! A!

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