take caution

Dr. Alan McMichael of Guillermo del Toro's  Crimson Peak. Selective & NSFW. Roleplays indefinately mobile.

[amateurdetectiive]

UNUSUAL YOUNG MAN:

Youth had fluttered past Alan's eyes like the passing of Spring. He always used to shake his head and click the tip of his tongue at older men's views of the world in their progressed age. They seemed more critical of the generation following them and excessively BITTER about the time which had continued on without them. They did not recognize themselves in the mirror anymore, and they often reflected on all the things they didn't do before when the opportunity was theirs. Of course, now Alan McMichael understood every word of it.

He wanted to believe he was not outrageously jaded with age, but there were things he missed. There were times when things were easier on his aching bones. Alan looked over one of those things this very instant: the stairs. There was a time he'd climbed towers of the blasted things, carrying a stack of books at that!

Nowadays, his eyes cast to one side and debated over if it would be better to prepare himself for the climb by taking rest on the adjourning benches lining the rails. Alan grabbed for his watch and realized he had forgotten it. `Pardon me, young man, but do you have the time? ´

[amateurdetectiive]

Seeing the disappointment stamped into Alan’s face, Rose felt a flutter in her chest. “Maybe it’s a … decoy?”

She turned back to the ornate box, and the dull, albeit beautiful object inside. Feeling suddenly brave, she did reach down and gently press her ring and middle finger to it.

Oh. There was something. An echo; a ripple. Faint, but persistent.

“This is real.” She said softly, pulling her hand away. “It’s just … empty.”

Alan moved to stop her hand from reaching out, but he had to stop himself from touching it first, truth be known. His curiosity insatiable, he hunkered to know if their trip was for naught.

At her words, his breathing deepened and his heart skipped a beat. `Then we are too late... ´ It would have been a great find for his research; however, even more so, it inspired worry that the object may now be in the hands that could weed great danger. Furthermore, just how long had it been missing from its resting place.

Alan licked his dried lips, shaking his head back and forth slowly. `This is not good, ´ he declared unnecessarily.

[amateurdetectiive]

KIT:

cont'd from...

The doctor worked to hold his patient down steadily by his shoulders. There was a kindness in Alan's eyes, an empathy, that shined as he squashed the young man. `You'll be all right, ´ he assured. `You've taken a hard knock to the head. Sit still now. You'll be disoriented longer if you don't. ´

Dr. McMichael was a recent addition to the asylum, assigned to be an apprentice of sorts to Dr. Arden. In his brief introduction, Alan found the doctor to be a hard man and dispassionate. He was of a kind which, in Alan's opinion, made an ill-mannered physician. The senior doctor seemed to have a shared poor opinion of him as well. `Would you like some water? ´ Alan offered.

[amateurdetectiive]

STRANGER

Violence was a way of life for very specific individuals, and Wyatt could tell by this stranger’s suit alone that he was not bred for violence. Blood did not seem to shock him, the cut on his arm didn’t seem to worry him, so it could be assumed that he’d faced hardship before, but it didn’t stop Wyatt from making his best guess that Alan McMichael was not accustomed to being accosted like he was. White eyes took in the sight of blood and assessed the situation. “You’ll want to clean that.” He commented, looking over Alan’s shoulder to make sure that the assailant was not coming back.

Alan tried to slow his rapid heartbeat with deep breaths. Panicking wouldn't help him, but still, he cast wide eyes over his shoulder, searching for his vanished attacker. `Who was that? ´ his breath hissed through his teeth. To the other man who helped him, he gave a nod in agreement. `Thank you, by the way. He came out of nowhere... ´Alan had heard to be wary of the carnival folk when he was directed here on the second leg of his travels. He'd been on the road for a little under a month so far, and he came no closer to answering even a portion of his questions of the paranormal. With him, he carried a thick leather notebook he uses for interviews and notes he'd collected along the way. The doctor was admittedly startled by the man's appearance, but Alan had seen much since his time in Buffalo. `I would be obliged if you could aide me further. I left my bag in town, but I can't go back until I've seen the fortune teller. ´

[amateurdetectiive]

While I take a break from iconing :

GIVE A ♡ FOR AN ICONLESS STARTER

[erythropars-blog]

mermaid au sentence starters

HUMAN POV

“Are you poisonous?” “Can I try to pick you up?” “How is your hair so soft?” “Why don’t you get pruney?” “Can you be eaten like sashimi?” “Have you ever fought off a shark?” “You’re even prettier than legends say.” “You speak our language surprisingly well.” “I thought mermaids were supposed to be pretty.” “Here, taste this. It’s a human drink called alcohol.” “Is it true that you can erase memories with a kiss?” “Wait! Please don’t leave! I’m not going to hurt you!” “If I fall in love with you, does that mean I’m into zoophilia?” “If you could get rid of your tail for legs and feet, would you?” “So, like… were you hatched from an egg? Or born like a shark?” “Should I build a house on the beach so we can always be together?”

MERMAID POV

“Do I scare you?” “Your bathtub is too small…” “Go ahead. You can touch me.” “You have to stop coming here.” “People are coming. I have to go.” “Can you take me back to the ocean?” “Why is there an eel between your legs?” “Why is there a clam between your legs?” “My scales are sharp. Please don’t touch them.” “Did you really go out and buy me a kiddy pool to lay in?” “I’m not just a fish. Stop treating me like I’m beneath you.” “I’m getting dehydrated. Can you spray me with the hose?” “Can you stop staring at me? You’re making me uncomfortable.” “I cant live on land, and you cant live in the water. We cant be together.” “If I leave the ocean for you, and you fall out of love with me, I’ll die. You have to know this.” “That’s not a pool. That’s a deep hole with muddy water. You cant expect me to swim in that.”

[amateurdetectiive]

ELISA:

cont'd from...

Dr. McMichael was a visitor in Occam -- an unwelcome one at that. The favors his mother had to pull to gain his guest pass were what he'd be paying back for years to come. He shuttered to think of the blind DATES being setup at this very moment, knowing his mother. After six months of red tape, Alan had gained access to the covert facility, and he planned to make the most of the short amount of time he was allowed.

Arguing with the cleaning staff seemed counterproductive, but something in the back of his mind tugged at his rationale. It was the little voice that always piped up when his sister was up to one of her schemes. Alan hesitated a moment more. `where... can I find Dr. Hoffstetler? ´

[amateurdetectiive]

ELSA

Slinking away from the festivities proved difficult with so many patrons remaining to pay respect to the new Monarch and by the time she does most of the guests are feeling the drinks and music enough not to take notice of the vacant throne —they should be accustomed to her absence.

The hallways has grown dark and if Elsa hasn’t spent her life slinking through these corridors it would be easy to become lost. She’s guided by the lantern she holds and the pounding of her heart the closer to their clandestine meeting place. Light peeks out from beneath the door and she smiles to herself.

He came. He wants to see her.

Her hand hovers over the knob, a knot twisting in her belly. What if he’s come to tell her he never wants to see her again? I would deserve it, she thinks to herself. Perhaps l ov e is something she can never feel without suffering loss.

turning the knob she swallows the thickness in her throat to open the door, frozen in the threshold when she sees him. “Alan…” Her words a whisper meant only for him as she sets the lantern down and runs to him.

His name. He heard it again in that voice. Most lovesick fools would talk of music and rapture--the very voice of the heavens, perhaps. But to Alan, her voice was strikingly scratched with deep soprano vibrating in each syllable. It was almost as though she hadn't spoken since he started writing her the LETTERS, and like some fairytale enchantment, her voice was given life as soon as their eyes met in the ballroom. For a moment, he thought he imagined it. When he turned to the doorway, there she was, and she couldn't reach him fast enough.

His arms opened to engulf her slim figure, coiling around her waist as though they were made just for this. Without hesitation, he moved his face into her neck. Moisture at her covered neck, and Alan looked closer to see it was his own tears. His lips parted over the trail, collecting them again in a breathy kiss. His lips met the velvet cloth of her collar. Her dress more than modest. `Elsa... Don't send me away, ´ he requested. His throat rasped the words, and they tore through his teeth like a command rather than a plea. `I know you do not wish to see me. Nothing has changed, but let me hold you one last time! ´

His hands roved up her spine, his fingers tangled through the roots of her hair as he desperately traced every line of her, every curve. He pulled his face away from the crook of her neck after placing a hasty kiss to the shape of her jawline. When his lips met her bare skin, a spark of electricity shocked him. Alan met her eyes once again then devoured the details of her face. His fingertips mapped out her lovely features. `I am a fool, I know. I know!´

[amateurdetectiive]

Rose glanced over at him, nose wrinkling. “I can usually … tell when something’s dangerous. At least, when there’s … something paranormal involved in making it that way.”

She leaned down, looking at the object in question. “This doesn’t make me feel anything.”

Alan slanted his head and examined the object again, preferred to his book laid open in his hands, and finally frowned. Deeply. In disappointment.

`Is it a fake? ´ he questioned, almost to himself. The text offered him nothing, and he was discouraged to think he'd led them on a wild goose chase.

[amateurdetectiive]

MOST ELIGIBLE QUEEN

“Majesty,” she corrects him in a playful tone, “I was promoted to Queen three years ago. I haven’t had time for hobbies, though I’d like to pursue the things that interest me as soon as I find out what those things are. I don’t know what you were told about me but until recently I lived an isolated life. My coronation changed everything.” Things people still whispered about. “What draws you to it, studying the afterlife. Are you seeking confirmation there is an afterlife?” Elsa keeps her voice low and soft, lest they be overheard talking about such a taboo subject matter.

“Sometimes I wonder if there is. Maybe my mother and father are there waiting for Anna and I to join them. People say they’re watching over us but I can never reconcile how.” She thinks of her parents often trying to keep their memory fresh in her mind. Day by day she feels she forgets more.

The sound of her father’s voice, her mother’s eyes, how perfect their hugs felt.

When his gentle mending of her hand was done she looks up at him and allows herself to smile. “You intrugue me, Alan.”

Alan felt himself smile before he realized he did. Her correction summoned the memory of his friend back home -- how he did not know what a baronet was, and bow she happily define the distinguished title. A typical American such as he had no time for formalities that had no weight in a capitalist society. That is, until his mother so lovingly drudged up his own vague and probably estranged ties to nobility which led him here: a suitor to a queen, no less!

His thoughts quickly grew dark at the memory of what really brought his hobby to the forefront of his mind. His experience, his BRUSH with the paranormal nearly cost him his life and the life of bis longest friend. Alan brought his free hand to his mouth to wipe the grin away. His job finished, he stepped back and retrieved his book to tuck it away behind the volumes already lining the shelf. `surely, you must have had something to occupy you then? ´ he referred to the time before she inherited the crown. His back still turned, he put the book in its place with a distinct thump and spun to face her again. Pressing his back against the bookcase, Alan folded his arms over his chest, his fingers stroking lightly at the side which hid a long scar from his past.

His eyes were looking past her as he listened, and he was far away as he said, `how is the mystery. the why is the answer I seek. ´ He paused and brought himself back. `Do not hope they linger, Your Majesty. It is better when we do not feel them remaining. That is how we know they find peace. ´

[amateurdetectiive]

ГOPEN\\

He hadn't planned this, or rather, there was no way Alan McMichael could EXPECT it. He was a cliche --- in the wrong place, at the wrong time. And now, he was bleeding. It wasn't life-threatening if there was an up side to the situation. His upper arm burned with the injury, and a CRIMSON bloom began to stain his torn shirt. Reflexively, his other hand reached up to grab the gash, applying pressure as if that were enough to dull the pain.

In any case, he assured himself it would slow the bleeding. `It's all right. I've been stabbed before... ´ he said in an eerily calm tone.

[amateurdetectiive]

thank you so much elsaofarendelle!!💙❤

[amateurdetectiive]

Hesitating for a moment Elsa opens her palm and extends her hand for him to examine, her gaze seeking something to distract her from whatever he may need to do to close the laceration, settling on the book he had to set down to help her.

Elsa expected Alan to be like every other man on that short list of suitors. Ambitious and eager to make a sure thing of their yet to be agreed upon marriage. He’s surprised her with how little interest in the crown he shows. He’s kind and gentlemanly of course but he offers nothing to encourage her to ask him to stay either. It’s as though he doesn’t want to be here at all. His mother was the one who contacted the Chancelor and brought her son’s heritage to their attention and Elsa was beginning to think Alan himself wanted no part in any of this.

“Talking to the dead…this is a book on the paranormal” It’s practically heresy to possess such a thing under the constant judgement of both Church and Council but something about the subject and his interest in it intrigues her. “This subject interests you?”

After he approached her, he began to wonder if she would humor him. He could insist, but Alan would not force her. His surprise was muted by his instinctive call to action. He was not a surgical physician; though, Alan did have a basic knowledge of treatment. The wound was not deep, thank heavens. It required sterilization and a good wrap. The American put aside his book thoughtlessly and reached for his leather case.

He tensed as she spoke the title aloud. Rolling his shoulders in feigned nonchalance, Alan uncorked a bottle of disinfectant.

`It's a hobby. ´

The statement was not a LIE. Alan was an honest man. Many would say, to a fault. He would admit it after a lengthy stubborn streak. The whole truth was, he wished to devote all of his time.to the endeavor. The reality was, he was still very much the amateur.

As he tended her unfolded palm, he worked effortlessly. It was a task he'd been groomed for thoroughly. Indeed, he worked hard to learn it and for his own reasons. But after seeing more of the world, his mind longed to expand.

`Do you not have a secret fascination that lurks in the back of your mind, princess? ´he asked while he coiled the bandage around her hand.

[amateurdetectiive]

ГOPEN//

`It appears to me to be some sort of artifact. A weapon, perhaps. I'm not sure we should disturb it... ´ the DOCTOR cautioned.

[tryingmother]

IF YOU ARE OKAY WITH ICONLESS ROLEPLAYS REBLOG THIS SO YOUR FOLLOWERS KNOW !!

like as much as i love icons and a good psd, sometimes its just tasking to do. and not everyone has great resources. so if you’re okay with having threads with no icons, please reblog this so that people know you’re okay with it. i feel like roleplayers today are too focused on the aesthetics and won’t follow people who use base icons or even none at all. it’s not about icons, but about the writing !!

[amateurdetectiive]

ELSA

He’s bowed at her feet pledging fealty to her name and Elsa felt her heart sink into her belly. She doesn’t deserve his loyalty nor he her silent indifference. God, how she wished she could hear him whisper her name in that velvet tenor like he used to.

“Alan,” his falls from her lips in a broken, throaty sound. “You’re really here.” She wants to move toward him and embrace him but the tingle beneath her skin gives her pause. Clearing her throat the newly crowned Queen found her composure to step down from the dais. “Please rise, Doctor McMichael, and come with me.” Her saddened smile pleads with him. He has no reason to accept. He owes her no chance to explain why she cut off contact without so much as a reason to console him.

A gloved hand resting on his arm with a gentle pressure she moves closer still. “The library will be empty tonight. We can speak freely there.”

Kai’s voice pulled her away from Alan and back to her place above the crowd as her sister was introduced and guided beside her. The two haven’t been in the same room in years let alone shoulder to shoulder. Elsa easily falls into conversation with her as though they’ve never been apart but her gaze seeks out Alan’s.

It all happened quite suddenly. From drifting into the ball as if wandering into a forgotten dream, to speaking to her as if his HEART was not shredded at her feet. Alan found himself in amazement. She wanted to see him privately. She remembered him. She said his name. Just as swiftly as his breathing returned to him, in one rushed gasp, she was gone again--off to do her duty.

He watched her go as she looked back at him, and it was like time hadn't existed. No time ever separated them, nor had it filled the hours in which their love formed. Everything between them simply WAS like the hear her gloved touch left on his arm. That impression of contact was the sum of Alan's experience with her --- brief, haunting, & consuming.

It was with this thought that Alan continued through the festivity. After a considerable time, when he would not be seen or missed, he slipped out of the ballroom and made his way to the meeting place she'd assigned. It was a chore to locate, but Alan entered the cozy chamber in due course. He was there first, so he lit a small lantern, careful not illuminate too much in case it would draw in an unwanted passerby.

Alan paced the length of the bookcases, his eyes searching but seeing none of the words imprinted along the spines. His palms began to sweat, and he fought the urge to scrub then against his trousers. Perhaps she wanted to banish him quietly and wanted to avoid a scene. She would return his letters or burn them right here in the fireplace. His mind ran rampant with possibilities. However, all good ones remained safely tucked away in the shards of his heart.

[amateurdetectiive]

ELSA

Nothing had felt the same since the death of her parents. What little stability Elsa felt vanished and her self-imposed isolation grew worse. Letters from the only person she had allowed close to her went without an answer for two years and it tore her heart further in two knowing how hurt he would be. It’s for the best, she would tell herself. He deserves a happiness I can’t give him. I can’t give it to myself.

Memories of his smile and the way his hand holding her’s made her stomach flip felt like dreams to her now. Something she can never hope to have. Dreaming is dangerous.

Still, like many things she yearns for it.

Elsa never thought she would make it to this place, standing before a ballroom full of people celebrating her and the changes her crowning will bring. A smile sneaks its way across her features as she looks at her sister dancing with a Prince, the happiest she has ever seen Anna.

Gaze moving across the room she sees him hiding amonsgst a sea of faces and her heart pounds erradically against her chest. Instinctually she draws gloved hands into herself, feeling the tingle of magic in her fingers.

Alan had been in this room before --- long ago. He shunned the memory in fear of the burning ache to seize his chest. Instead, he dwelled on the idea of how empty it was then in order to calm his nervousness at being among so many. The dread he felt at seeing... HER again after the years apart--first as adolescents then when he departed Arendelle for a time--chilled in his lungs when from across the space, their eyes met.

She was --- more beautiful than he could ever have been capable of imagining on his own. Yet he had plenty of practice. He'd imagined her here, in the palace, doing her duty. And perhaps when she spared a moment, she would take out his notes in the candlelight and whisper his words to herself. He prayed she did not laugh over them, pitying the simple village boy who dared dream of admiring someone above him. B e y o n d him. And now, there she was, beyond his dreams and in the flesh. His breathing ceased, his eyes stung for not blinking, and he longed to run.in the other direction until he was safe at home in the cottage. Alan was no coward, however. He faced the world head on, and it was time to face Elsa, the queen.

`your majesty, ´ he found himself saying.

Somehow, he walked through the crowd and approached the dais, bowing deeply before he could even think. The music filtered through the grand event, and he was sure the people danced. Alan heard nothing but his heartbeat. He saw nothing but Elsa's pale gaze.

Still bowed, he pronounced his family's allegiance to the crown and waited to be dismissed. His mouth dry, he allowed his eyes to shut a lengthy moment as his face was averted. He collected himself then and was reminded of the reality he so well and truly ignored all that time before. A time when he was certain a princess could love a man, nothing more.