"Still He Wants Me Gratious" @always-bitter - Tumblr Blog

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Always-Bitter is an Indie and Non-Selective roleplaying blog for my Outlast Original Character Erin Knowles, run by Radio (25+) no minors please!

ABOUT--RULES

(tw; for themes dealing with trauma, child abuse, sa, mental health issues, self-harm, suicide, and religious guilt)

dividers by @silly-mantis-creations and @yvanilleie, everything else was found and edited on Pinterest

#|OOC|#Promo #Outlast RP #Outlast Roleplay #Outlast OC #Outlast Original Character #Spotify

charnel-grounds

Randy Ortiz, Untitled

#The Body Is A Temple |Aesthetic|

s0u1less

#Was It Fun Creating Me |Muse|

capobambino

[ BANDAGE ] ??

ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟɪɴɢ ᴅᴜꜱᴛ ► accepting [ BANDAGE ]: the sender sits down across from the receiver and begins to bandage their wounds.

The traps in the trials weren't only a threat toward the reagents, but also the prime assets hunting them down. Even though he had been the one to place the tripwires down, Franco would sometimes forget where they were placed. In this case, he had noticed the tripwire a moment too late and ran into it face first. The reward was a small blast that rings in his ears and sends bits of shrapnel into his face, shoulders, and arms, the latter of which received the most damage.

He had since given up the chase and fell to the floor with ragged breath. His arms hurt so terribly that he couldn't keep himself upright even when inches from a dried pile of puke, though he manages to turn himself over and onto his back at least. His entire body ached; his head was ringing and his arms were so very, very sore... and this floor is so very, very comfortable that he almost closes his eyes to rest when — there, at his side... what was that?

When he opens his eyes, he sees a figure at his side, binding his arm (with sleeve rolled up) in bandages. He has the urge to lunge at them and beat them senseless for daring to come near, but he has no energy and can only lay there watching them as they watch him.

"Surprised y' didn't take advantage of the situation another way 'n cave my skull in."

always-bitter

Since she first arrived at this unspeakable confinement that may as well rival the iciest pits of Hell, Erin knew that she would regret her very own pitiful existence for the rest of her life. Or at least, how much left she had it.

For now, she will continue to hide inside these lockers as best she can, given her overwhelming height. Once the coast was clear, she would continue to the objective and be forced to complete it. No matter how many times she sobbed until her throat bled, or begged the others for forgiveness, or cried out to someone, anyone, for help. It will always turn out the same. Yet somehow, she was expected to leave after those harrowing events and continue on as if nothing had happened. She will always feel unworthy of being human.

Perhaps, she jadedly thought, if she dissociated hard enough, she could completely erase every horrid thing she was required to witness and do for these fucking trials, from her memory, permanently. From the dismembered corpses carelessly strewn about like a disturbing art exhibit, acting like they were mere props for their twisted movie sets and not human beings. To the gut-wrenching screams of the fallen that haunt her very nightmares.

Yes, she was fine with hiding, for now.

'𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 - 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗡𝗘𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗥𝗨𝗡 𝗡𝗢𝗪 -'

A distant gunshot, followed closely behind by a plethora of familiar swearing, made her heart rattle in her ribcage with pure anxiety. He was close. Holding her breath, Erin witnessed everything as the well-dressed man fell into his own trap. Bestrewing his already damaged body with more debris, and sending him collapsing onto the concrete, like a dead fish.

Every single irksome voice in her head was screeching, begging her to run. That now was the perfect opportunity to escape. She knew what he was capable of. She discovered the document when she first entered the trial, concealed underneath a decaying, wooden crate and coated with dried blood. That very same document that revealed every little secret about him.

For every horrific deed he has committed with unfiltered glee, she should have left him a weeping, aching, pitiful mess.

But - something deep in that decrepit pit of her heart was unable to experience anything, but sympathy for this forsaken man that was presented before her.

The fact that he never had a proper mother figure growing up without them dying on him the very next second. Or when he killed for the first time at the extremely young and impressionable age of 12. And that his father never showed him any ounce of affection until that awful crime was committed, making Franco indebted and complacent with his vile childhood.

... When his own stepmother... Someone who was supposed to love unconditionally... Took and warped that once sacred relationship into one of... Perversion and control...

Only for his father to strike at him-!

Erin mournfully mused about how lonely it must of been for him. How quickly that innocence of youth was greedily and cruelly ripped away from him. Every child deserves a parent, but not every parent deserves a child.

Maybe... Franco just needed a friend. Because even if he is in a higher position of power, he is as much of a victim of this facility as the rest of them. Eventually, he will become annoyed and bored with the same routine. Maybe she could show him that there is more to life than needless bloodshed. And maybe, this is her own way of getting back at Easterman.

...Or maybe she was just suicidal...

Cautiously, not to attract any more unwanted attention, Erin hesitantly exited the comfort of the locker and into the open. Hands raised in compliance, showing him that she meant no harm. Before kneeling down beside him and pulling a wad of bandages from her back pocket.

His sudden comment was surprising to say the least, but it also reassured her that he wasn't going to lash out.

'y̶e̶t̶'

"... What can I say? Guess I never was considered the brightest..." She forced out an awkward, yellow-stained grin. In hopes of easing his troubled nerves. Gray eyes remained intently as she continued patching up his injuries.

"... How does your arm feel now..?"

#My God's A Little Sick |Thread|#(Sorry if it's a long read)#(But I'm just exited to get this ball rolling lol)#(Also for some reason Tumblr wouldn't allow me to indent like usual?)

roadkill-pup

#The Body Is A Temple |Aesthetic|

CHARACTER ASSOCIATIONS.

animal: black cats, ravens, bats, any snake

color: obsidian, midnight blue, crimson, mahogany, charcoal

month: october

song: sweet sacrifice by evanescence, warrior queens by skinny girl diet, the fox by sleater kinney, swamped by lacuna coil, too many lol

number: 7

day or night: late evenings

plant: belladonnas, venus flytraps, moonflowers, night-blooming jasmines

smell: sweat, cigarettes, stale coffee. That institutional, plain bar of soap that Murkoff/Sinyala gives to every reagent/patient

season: fall

food: chicken and dumplings, pot roast, vegetable soup, any type of comfort food really

astrological sign: capricorn

element: earth and dark

drink: doesn't drink lol

Tagged: Stole it from @lifesver

Tagging: @capobambino, @electricoyle, @yourbuddybonnie, @undergroundnightingale, @murkoffscientist, @notupshur

#Hoping For A Small Piece Of Sanity |Headcanon|

Erincore

#Was It Fun Creating Me |Muse|

omeem

Evening murmurs.

#The Body Is A Temple |Aesthetic|

frailgrl-deactivated20161128

i need like 9 cigarettes and a gunshot to the face

#How The Mind Does Shout For Rest |Musings|

Character Headcanon Generator

Mark if the HC is wrong or right!

Erin knocks people over by hugging them. ✅ (She was never much of a hugger, given her rough upbringing. But since she is so goddamn tall, whenever she did, you bet their ass would be on the floor next lol) Erin has a mary sue oc. ✅ (Kind of?? The closest thing I can think of is when she was going through her angsty teenage years and would draw the people who made her angry that day in a macabre, sketchy art style, getting torn apart in various ways by recurring monster characters she made up. So maybe??? lmao) Erin is very good at using chopsticks. ✅ (She prefers Chinese takeout over cooking on most days, especially if she is having a bad mental-health episode) Erin speaks only in meme references. ✅ (In her Main Verse, yes, obviously she would have known about memes. But would she use them very frequently? Sometimes, it would really just depend on the meme and what mood she was in) Erin does intricate and expensive cosplays. ✅ (Now, I wouldn't say cosplays, but she would make some pretty impressive homemade Halloween costumes every year. With fake teeth and everything) Erin is smart but also very stupid. ✅ (Kind of the reason why she's in this whole mess to begin with lol) Erin cringes at their middle school yearbook photos. ✅ (She tries to be kinder to herself over the years, but that self-loathing is always going to remain) Erin enjoys doing taxes. ❌ (Who does?) Erin tackles and wrestles people to show affection. ❌ (As stated above ⬆︎) Erin cries while watching disney movies. ✅ (Erin wasn't allowed to watch Disney growing up. But that didn't stop her from doing it behind her mother's back. How else did you think she had her goth phase? And while none of them made her cry, she felt very emotionally invested in these two movies specifically) (Main Verse: Hunchback of Notre Dame - She appreciates the movie for its more mature storytelling and atmosphere. But she also found herself relating WAY too much to Quasimodo's relationship with Frollo) (Trials Verse: Cinderella - Similar to Hunchback, she found herself in Cinderella's and Lady Tremaine's mother-daughter relationship)

Tagged by: Stole it from @capobambino and @electricoyle lol

Tagging: @undergroundnightingale, @notupshur, and YOU

#Hoping For A Small Piece Of Sanity |Headcanon|

crescentalice

girl with ptsd voice: hey, so something really bad is gonna happen, right? you guys are picking up on that too, yeah? The other shoe is about to drop, I just know it.

#Was It Fun Creating Me |Muse|

[@undergroundnightingale]

As the shuttle doors leading into The Sleep Room eventually unlatched, the haggard-looking woman finally staggered out. Her head was still spinning from the buzz of adrenaline, pain, and the sudden bright fluorescent lights that unwelcomingly greeted her wearied eyes. Erin could still painfully hear Dr. Easterman's disdainful reprimands in the back of her mind, like a spiteful specter. Never leaving, but always judging. It always came back to that all-too-familiar feeling of her wanting terribly to throw her wretched self into the comforting embrace of the shadows and never return from its solitude. Blissfully away from prying eyes. '𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 - 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 - 𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚, 𝗪𝗔𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗬𝗢𝗨 - ' 's̶t̶u̶p̶i̶d̶ ̶b̶i̶t̶c̶h̶,̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶d̶e̶s̶e̶r̶v̶e̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶ ̶o̶u̶n̶c̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶p̶a̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶g̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶,̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶g̶e̶t̶ ̶w̶h̶y̶' She had, forcefully, been torn away from her own delusional turmoil when she noticed a sudden, intense numbness coming from her right hand. Or at least, what was left of it. A long, deep gash ran across the inside of her palm. Exposing the fat of the flesh and painting her once pale skin in a deep, muted, maroon. God sure loved to piss on her whenever she was at her absolute lowest, now didn't he? The dark-haired woman thought bitterly as she felt her own eyes begin to swell with furious tears. Already becoming overwhelmed by the penetrating gazes from the staff, studying and dehumanizing her like she is nothing more than a piece of flesh. 'Y̶O̶U̶ ̶D̶E̶S̶E̶R̶V̶E̶ ̶I̶T̶' No, she would deal with this mess by herself, hidden from the verbal lashings and the never-ending staring that would inevitably make her sweat and shiver. Concealing the evidence inside her black coverall pocket, Erin mustered up what little strength she had left and slipped discreetly back into the safety of her room. Trying, and failing, to ignore that terrible, throbbing, ache coming from her sliced-open hand. Oblivious to the trickles of blood that left a trail behind her, standing out against the dull, gray concrete.

#My God's A Little Sick |Thread|#undergroundnightingale #TW: Injury #(Enjoy Erin have a psychotic episode!)#(Trust me)#(She will be A LOT to deal with)