The Creeper

When you stare into the abyss of shadow, The Abyss can stare back Not as an enemy, but as a friend.

[darckcarnival]

                                   DARCKCARNIVAL

Independant OC Roleplay Blog.   21+ Years of Roleplay Experience.                            Mun is 31+ Years old

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                          ‘Are you human, or are you a monster?’

           “I have more humanity in me than some humans.“

A creature of the night so determined to use every ounce of power and strength for the betterment of others, a heart of gold that can't quit, no matter how badly it hurts.

           |-| Rules |-| Bio |-| Species |-| Appearance |-| Hells Pit |-|

Using the 'Beta Editor' and 'xKit ReWritten'

[letsbelonelytogetherr]

— Nitya Prakash

[holystained]

@darckcarnival

"A respectable tea and coffee drinker. I'm more preferable to honey, or a chocolate mint in my coffee from time to time." The short brunette woman nods sagely at the priest. "Excellent taste."

"... thank you."

Anderson tried not to let his features wrinkle too obviously at the mention of a minty addition to the drink.

"Honey in your tea or in your coffee? I don't think I've ever met someone who does the latter. ...I once knew someone who put strawberry jam in their tea, though."

[darckcarnival]

If the brunette woman noticed anything, she didn't show it. Just giving an amused chuckle at his comment of her honey choices. The shorter of the two giving a contemplative hum with a hand lifting to tap her chin. Strawberry Jam.... That was a new one, even for her.

But ah, rather an answer for him. Her smile growing into a grin as she waved a hand in the air.

"Hah, my tea, of course! Should have clarified. Honey for the tea, chocolate mint for my coffee. Now, you have to tell me more about the Strawberry Jam part. I'm a lover of Elderberry Jam, and will have a sweet tooth much as the next person, but never heard of any of that sort in tea. Color me curious."

[unusual-suspects]

x

[darckcarnival]

What is your opinion on Albert Wesker? And the impact he left behind?

"Why the hell would you ask me that?"

Just thinking of that man who ruined so many lives, killed countless others, while his legacy has continued to rot, to fester, on this world. Ruins and corpses to pave a road of destruction as if each one was a carved brick for the step of those whom followed the same path. And she, herself, was not free of that sort of hell, the horrors that bent her mind to its limits nearly 30 years ago. Which is saying something, considering how Darck had practically died several years prior to become what she is today.

There was always something... Horribly different, about those things, made from the corrupt science of mad men.

With a click of her tongue, Darck managed to gather her words. "My honest opinion? I think that if fates had been kinder, and different options presented themselves, that man might have become someone very different. As it is however... That was not in the cards for someone that evil."

"That man is nothing but a boot leg recreation of things written about in stories, some mad mans attempt to create perfection and power in his fool hardy attempt at immortality. When the real creatures of such power lurk in the darkest corners of the world living far better than anything he ever could create."

"May that mans soul burn."

[miamaimania]

Tracery: A Symphony in Bronze by Timothy Cleary

[darckcarnival]

“So you absolutely, positively, under no circumstances won’t even try more ancient strains? That peculiar flower patch is as organic as it will get.”

Alucard is saying all of this with the straightest face. Can’t tell if he’s joking or not. (He totally is.)

Ancient strains...? Of weird muytagenic stuff. Flower? what did he...

Wait.

It clicked.

Darck grimaced immediately at the very idea, the notion, of that particular strain of plant that mutates people into bio-organic weapons through natural horrifying ways... In her jaws? That had the brunette half breed grimacing.

"Eugh... You mean 'Stairway Of The Sun?' The fact you even KNOW of that damn thing impresses me. But the idea of feeding off anything infected with its properties is going to make me lose all appitite today. You sir, are a fiend, and a monster. Truly tormenting a poor little thing such as me."

Darck knows this cant be real, but the idea alone is enough to get her short figure to shudder in disgust.

[darckcarnival]

how many people have you eaten? or drank?

"For one, that is a rude question to ask... And for two, I am not answering it. Thank you for specifically changign that to drinking though. Very distinct difference."

Darck sighed and pinched at her brow. Already feeling the potential for a headache coming on. "Listen, this isn't exactly a friendly conversation for most people? And I, for one, would rather not entertain that sort of conversation."

[rpmemegraveyard]

The 'yes or no' game.

Send my muse "❓+" alongside harsh hitting questions, scenarios, anything question-related really, but they can only answer with "yes" or "no". Nothing more, nothing less.

[the-sad-boy]

[darckcarnival]

would you drink the blood of a BOW or no?

"For one, disgusting... Those things taste foul."

Darck has tried in the past, more than once due to desperation. And others because of no other option in combat. But she does actively avoid it whenever she can.

"It's not something I would ever willingly do without good reason. I'll avoid it, thanks... I may be basically immune to base T-Virus due to my chemical make up, but that doesn't mean I'm going to willingly subject myself to that."

[hamonhoned]

“Please do—I’d like to not encounter anymore cursed creepy rocks or men that crawl out of said creepy cursed rocks!” Granted it was only one to three guys, but… even just one guy was one too many coming across a rock bragging about becoming the ‘Ultimate Life Form’.

[darckcarnival]

"Creepy rock men-" Well that was distinctly NOT what the brunette had been talking about. She had been about to rant about B.O.W'S, or Tyrants, or whatever else sort of bullshit people came up with claiming they were the best...

Sure, plenty of supernatural and magical entities did the same shit behind the scenes, but that feels more like a natural assumption to make. But creepy cursed rocks or men in rocks? That isn't golems, obviously-wait...

That scent. That sort of... Weird energy... This was a Joestar. Darck has only ever encountered two of them before, one was an old man with weird purple vines, and the other wore a black hat. That had been brief and only because of someone else she ran into and hated the moment he had opened his mouth. Some guy called Dio... But that was many years ago.

"Well, maybe you should-

And Darck snapped her mouth shut with a scowl. One brow twitching above her sunglasses. "... Boy, do I look blonde to you?" She replied with a nearly insulted tone, her hand lifting the ends of her brown hair to motion with it. "Vampire, only half, weird blonde ass hole? Not at all."

"Are you good, Joestar?"

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

req'd by @cassidy-peterson

me every day

text: BEHOLD! MY FUCKING dumbassery!

[darckcarnival]

.

[darckcarnival]

"This is harassment. It's a lie, foolish, and completely untrue. I'm just existing here!"

Darck may not be over there right now, but she sure as hell can hear from that far away.

[cercat0re]

Echoing throughout the broken and aged halls were the sounds of too loud gunshots. Shattering the placid silence with all the same shared grace of a sledgehammer to glass, Leon winces, doing his best to accommodate the recoil of his handguns steady pulses with each shot fired, keeping a keen eye out on his surroundings knowing damned well being unguarded in the heart where this entire nightmare began was an unwise thing to do. He couldn't afford to fail... too much rode on him finding some scrap of success to save others.

The sound of distant groaning is hardly a very reassuring sound, regardless of any scenario he’d tried to conjure up in an attempt to self-soothe. He reasons, given his line of work, the call of a gun was only ever bound to end in the answering cries of the infected, it’d been routine by now, a way to make sense of the chaos he almost always found himself in without fail-however grim it was. It gave a fleeting sense of control, of stability in being able to predict the unknown through prior learned patterns, before he knew he’d find it soon ripped out from under him again, from some other new unidentified threat he’d needed to face and adapt for.

The one thing that did change in this instance was his company. Usually, he was sent off alone on missions like this, not common, but familiar enough that he’d known what to expect. @darckcarnival was not one of those things. Familiar with knowing he was in safe enough hands with letting his guard ease, knowing Casper’d pick up the slack when he faltered or ran low and needed to reload when fighting their way out of whatever new space they'd found themselves temporarily trapped in. He's not stupid. He has an inkling on what she was doing in this place too. It's rarely ever a coincidence when the pair bumps into one another, but this time, he does his best not to lure attention his way longer than necessary, knowing the tie held was likely in relation to his current state of being.

Like the very shadows she clings to and commands to her advantage, he has no doubt that she was there when the diagnosis started to become more well known for Survivor's of the incident that'd tied their fates all those years ago. Not even he could escape it unscathed.

He feels the way her eyes linger on the exposed skin of his forearms, tries to ignore the way he feels it like a physical weight atop the raised ridging, darkened and sprawling to overtake his skin like spilled ink.

It hurts, like a tender, raw bruise, but there's nothing he can do but grit his teeth and press on. She trails close at his back, silent-not a good sign if he ever knew what to look for. Just like him, her forte lie in being able to make the best of a bad situation through witty remarks and cutting humour. The silence that spanned felt final, worryingly so. Still cradling so much between without a proper bridge to gap things and bring them to light where they very much needed to be seen.

With a low groan, one that peters off into a tired cough, he rolls a shoulder, holstering his gun just long enough to stalk over to one of the sprawled BSAA agents bodies laying limb along one of the stash containers. Crouching, his brows furrow, shaking his head softly with a sigh before he casts an assessing look the woman's way, noting the darkened grimace tugging at the edge of her lips at the recognition of the organization patches. She's likely going to be confronting one of the Redfield's later, by the looks of it.

➔ ❛  I don't like where this is going...  ❜

When her voice echoes through the hollowed space, quiet but still so boomingly loud, he can't help but hang his head, dragging bloodied, gloved fingers over the soaked patch atop the deceased operative's tactical vest.

"Wasn't there an internal dispute...?" He offers, brows pinched in sympathetic concern. Whatever the BSAA was doing here... digging their own hands into infection data, the disgusting way they treated their kill systems like a game for currency... there's no damned way Chris would've allowed something he backed to trivialize human life this way, even those of the deceased and infected.

[darckcarnival]

It was like watching time slowly catch up, taking the years away with each tick of the clock, only so much worse. The way scents of others began to change, and shift. In ways no one else would notice, maybe not even some trained canines... Until the physical symptoms began to show. Darck's supernatural senses picking up on the subtle hints of illness, over working and weakening immune systems, the way a mortal's blood could have such a tang in the air starts to become almost dull. Not dead, not rotted... But being eaten away.

She knew something was wrong, before hearing the diagnosis, just couldn't quite place it. Maybe if she'd said something, or tried to find out more? Something could have been worked sooner? Not that it mattered, with the suddenly onset taking survivors by storm. Not unlike a spark upon dry brush that had become an inferno before anyone could get ahead of it. Not even someone of suich awareness like her could have foreseen any of this.

Not a single person.

Which made it even worse, while lurking in shadows trying to pinpoint further details, when having learned Leon was out there... As ever, the creeper she was, couldn't well let that slide. So, she had become on with the darkness once more. gliding through the layers between reality and beneath. Watching, and assisting where she could from behind the scenes without being seen... Of course this placed her directly in the path of a young woman, whom Darck had only ever seen or witnessed as a baby. Alyssa said it was her daughter, but the scent never matched...

Now, they were here. In the city of the dead. Where hell began for all of them. To try and get to the bottom of everything, Gideon, 'Elpis', the history... And now the BSAA corpses. Old enough to be emaciated.

Darck could still remember the younger years, walking these streets briefly, before it became a nightmare. The donut shop, the laughter, the subway she expierenced for the first time, Chris letting her go scare a perp or two... And when it all went up, she still came back once in a blue moon, to lurk, to remember, memory good and bad.

It's why she was more prepared for this. Wasn't a secret she came around. But these outposts, the crates... And the ARK shit? That was things she didn't know. Didn't even realize to look into.

Now information was compiling. Making tension shoot through her even worse, despite the worry she held for Leon. Maybe one of the few people who well and truly knew her, over all these years. And she knew him.

So, as hard as he tried to downplay his condition, not draw attention, still Darck knew better. Gaze lingering on discolored skin where it was exposed, seeing how he carried himself harder, breathing was more rough like his lungs couldn't get enough air... A predator knows when things are worse than they should be.

And she would never admit it... But deep down, the woman was scared. Turned that into determination, sure- but it wouldn't go away. Instead keeping close in exposed reveal, instead of constantly in and out. Sticking at Leon's side while she can, gun ever loaded, and not hesitating to bring her capability to bear.

Her grimace was not missed upon seeing the corpses on those patches. Not when they were outside. Nor in the building. Or up on this half caved in roof. Getting those damn detonator parts are annoying as fuck... At least the mortar's were taken care of. Now free to loot.

"Yeah, they did." Darck grumbled, double checking her ammo, as she walked to the edge of the blasted out roof and building. Glancing back towards the street level as her sensitive ears began to pick up movement below. Blister Heads... Great... "Chris was already pissed off at another branch for using BOW's back in Europe. And now, the American Branch, has been split down the middle. Fuck if I know the details... All of this? Paint's a very unpleasant picture. And the age of the gear, the dust... I remember seeing more movement, some time ago, deeper in the city as well."

It's a right messed up situation. For the BSAA, and the DSO considering someone tried to stop them earlier. That was obvious.

Darck released a heavy breath, resolve sinking into her very bones. "No matter what happens, I've got your back, Leon. I've always been there, and promise I'll continue to be." The brunette turned back, her gaze settling onto the special agent with a weight of a lifetime. A lifetime of knowing and never giving up.

"I promise."

[darckcarnival]

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