The Plaque has come

Fandomless rp blog for an antihero/vigilante who goes by Plaque. Mun is 21+

[herecomesplaque]

stultustheatrum‌:

“I don’t have to explain a thing I–!” Doc trailed off. “A pumpkin… yes… a nice fruit  to ease my troubled mind. It has naturally occurring calming energies, that gourd…”

Doc holstered his blaster, and crawled out of the barricade, taking Plaque’s hand and pulling himself out. He landed on all fours like a cat, but seemed to be a physical as well as an emotional wreck. But eventually he found renewed stamina, and got to his feet.

“Let’s get out of here, before they get back. We must hurry– BWAAAHUH?!”

Doc pointed behind Plaque: far off in a corner where the lights flickered, there briefly appeared a man in a wizard costume, except instead of a pattern of stars, moons and suns, it was equation signs. Pluses, minuses, multiplication crosses, division signs… the works.

And then he disappeared just as quickly as he appeared.

“They’re onto us! Run!” cried Doc, scrambling for the door into the stuffy stairwell.

Wait, it did? Plaque just liked the texture when eating them...Well, this just gave them more reasons to go out and buy a pumpkin. A tasty crunchy snack, good for the host. Calm them. The void quickly matched Doc’s temperature. It now felt like there was nothing there, only the pressure of helping him up gave hint to the void being a mass and that there was something hard underneath.  “Dawn’s just a heartbeat away, hopes just a sunrise away”  Plaque spoke, believing these to be encouraging words before letting go of the others hand, their temperature dropping again to match the rooms. It looked like this man needed something, what a wreck, what a wreck.  And everything seemed to be going well until Doc yelled out, causing Plaque to quickly lift their hand, an eye peeling open on the back of it to spy what was behind them. Ah, a nerd! They knew they’d find these dweebs here.  “Run little one, we will be close behind. We will be the shadow at your back” Plaque cooed while some of the tar around the face area bubbled up and when each one popped there was a chuckle. This was the time to be a hero, to give Doc time to flee, create a discretion, a wall so to speak between the attacker and victim.  They loved this part. “Darkness sings a forlorn song, yet our hope can still rise up” As Plaque spoke they slapped their hand down at the ground, where the void shot out and left the backside of their body in order to create a wall of darkness. It was thin as it covered most of the room. It wouldn’t be hard to break through but it would stop one from seeing what was happening. A wall, a diversion. 

[herecomesplaque]

stultustheatrum‌:

“No, no they’re wizards… They use advanced equations to alter probability. They menace me at every turn. How do I know you’re not one of their Liter-Leaders?… Your slimy exterior… looks like it could fill beakers and test tubes. With liquid volume! Not that again, not again!”

Doc wildly fired off a couple of laser bolts before curling up further into his barricade.

“You can say you don’t know math, but I can smell it! In this room is a mind that has done mental math, and that ain’t me!”

Whoever those Mathematicians were, they had done a number on Doc. There was arithmetic and formulas done on the walls, floor and ceiling. Some of which left behind strange glowing residue from recently altered probabilities. These weren’t quite reality warpers, but still: they could perhaps be called existential alchemists.

“Wizards” Plaque repeated, almost seeming doubtful that such a thing could exist, ignoring that they themselves were a space parasite with control over shadow tar bull. Yep, wizards were the thing unbelievable here. Plaque’s snickering was caught short as laser bolts fired by them, their posture soon rigid, unmoving like a statue while the void across their body rippled with tiny spikes before going back to normal.  “You are a man who does not know my rule I see” Their tone had turned darker, serious. “Anyone who points a gun at me dies” There was a cracking noise underneath the void before Plaque chuckled, taking a step forward. “But we’ll forgive you this time, do not worry. We all make mistakes after all” As Plaque spoke they looked around the room, curious to what all had happened here. Something deep down said nothing good, especially with how this man was acting...Maybe they got here just in time before this nut cracked. “I do not have a brain, no math...Odd, curious that you can smell it though. You will explain later, for now, let us go. Let us flee to safety. You’d like that, yes? We will get you a pumpkin, it is the season. A snack to ease your troubled mind. You will come, yes?” Plaque then extended a hand, waiting patiently for the other to make any sort of movement.

[stultustheatrum-deactivated2019]

Doc is shaking. He has made a barricade in the corner of an office space, and he’s holding his blaster up, mumbling all the while.

“D-Don’t come any closer… How do I know you’re not part of M.A.I.M.? That is, the Ministry of Aggressive and Irate Mathematicians?!”

[herecomesplaque]

There was a slow rumble of a chuckle, bubbling to the surface as if underneath tar as the being stood in the shadows by the closed door, blocking an exit. Each step Plaque took was smooth, precise like a hunter stalking its prey...But the rest of the body seemed to move awkwardly as if the being of void didn’t know what to do with the rest of itself. “Come now, come, come. I don’t know math”  It sounded oddly...Proud as it admitted this. How could it be a whatever math nerd if it didn’t even know a single thing about math. Ha! Win for Plaque and they weren’t about to pull up the host's extensive knowledge on the topic and prove themselves wrong now. “Fearful, of angry teachers? Angry, I hear teachers carry a ruler for smacking knuckles. Now, now, off topic, loosing ourselves, what are you hiding from? Are those nerds here? Smacking, snapping, hacking away? Where, where?” 

[herecomesplaque]

One of Plaque’s favorite attacks

[herecomesplaque]

ozcobblepot‌:

     “Yes, of course. Oz is what close friends call me.” Not that he considered them close let alone friends yet but whatever. The nitty gritty didn’t matter.

     As the other takes their hand in his, Oswald finds himself looking in wonder and curiosity. Their…skin? -he wasn’t sure how to describe it- wasn’t like anything he had seen before. He had to know more, he craved the knowledge.

     “To keep things simple, let’s just say I’m used to scenes like this, either causing them or coming across them.” He waves his hand dismissively as if the topic was nothing to write home about. “So, tell me more about yourself. What’s your name? Or what can I call you? And more importantly if you don’t mind me asking what’s with…your body?”

“Oz” They voice echoing softly down the alleyway. Yes, yes this would be easy to remember. Nicknames always helped them remember. You’d think a being with two brains would be smart, able to remember everything and while that was sometimes the case, most times it was not. After a moment the feeling of Plaque’s hand would vanish, their temperature matching the others perfectly. It was almost like being in one of those sensory deprivation tanks, but only the hand. Of course Plaque could change the texture if they wanted, but to do so at this point in time would take a conscious effort. “Used to? Odd, not good. Crime rate here must be higher then I thought, too high, needs weeding” For a moment Plaque seemed like they were going to take their hand away, step away and then another thought distracted them from their disgust of this city. “Plaque” with that they pulled out a name card with their free hand. The Q had an umlaut over it...Should it be there? No, not at all, but it was. Even more it looks like they were added by hand. On the back it would note that the Q is to be pronounced as a G. Beneath the shadows there was a chuckle, it bubbled towards the end, popping somewhere within. “Forward question, yes? We can ask the same, what is with your body. Soft, squishy, yet dense all the same. Easily broken, easily ripped, easily, easily, easily. Weak, fragile. ... We got off topic, thinking, mind wondering, my body is a mystery. Void, darkness, something squirming deep beneath. She doesn’t know what, neither do I.” As they spoke they lightly, carefully, mushed the others hand in their own before letting go.

[herecomesplaque]

cemeterygrotesque‌:

“What? Scared of the cops? What kind of hero are you when you are scared of the law! Or are you doing wrong, huh? Scared someone will fucking tell you that to your face?” He doesn’t lower his voice, emphasizing the word with mockery.

“What fucking villain?! That’s some poor fuck that probably can’t afford a job or ended up hooked on some stupid narcotic. That’s not a fucking villain.” There is another dry laugh coming from him. How ironic it felt, after everything he has done some nobody was laying down dead for pointing a gun.

The world was not fair.

“Introduced ourselves? You are joking right. Because it’s a good joke.”

“No, no, no no” Shadows, void, darkness, whatever you wanted to call it swirled around the woman. Covering her, changing her and then in some cases moving to be elsewhere. As if the being before the kindred couldn’t decide who they wanted to be. It felt too late to hide, they had let the shadows slip in a fit of instincts, of wanting to hide, to be themselves. Though anytime the darkness covered their face it changed their voice, filtered it. It took the meek little voice the host had and covered it. As if the woman was drowning, submerged beneath water, or something thicker. A sound that was at one point muffled, far off and yet, all too clear and close. There was even hints of the original voice in there, somewhere, deep, deep within. “They wouldn’t understand, no, no, no. I am not afraid, but the cops never understand. They point their guns, scared, scared cattle, sheep. Fools. I am not scared but we cannot risk them putting their own lives in danger by drawing their weapons on us. No, no. You see the problem here, yes?” After a moment the shadows finally settled in, the clothes expanding a little, tightening and soon the being before them no longer held the shape of the host. They were bigger, more androgynous and easily confused for a man by many. In the end they had decided to be themselves, and so shield themselves as this man seemed angry and they had already been shot once today. “Angry, anger, we feel it. Careful, we have read that anger is not healthy for humans. Careful, very, no heart attack. No, no.” Plaque was de-synced from the hosts mind, their speech effected, suffering. They could re-sync but that would take time, and honestly, they did not currently want to. “But it does not matter, no chances to hurt anyone again. No, no. I did good, I saved someone. That is all that matters.” Plaque was used to this kind of argument. No one understood what they did, it was sad. But Plaque didn’t need them understanding. “Internet says to keep things civil, polite, to give, take names. Give, give. Will you?”

[herecomesplaque]

cemeterygrotesque‌:

“Well what the fuck are you then?!” He hated the supernatural, which was perhaps funny to be coming from a vampire. But to him that was nothing magical, it was just part of his family. This, on the other hand, was not.

“Don’t you know heroes don’t fucking kill people? I don’t see anything except a rotting fucking corpse.” The more the creature spoke the more Nero thought whatever it was, was not in it’s senses. Or at least what he would consider to be such.

It sounded crazy. “This is fucked up.” He says finally, with a half choked, dry laugh.

“Loud, angry, shhh, you’ll draw in the cops. We don’t want cops, you don’t want cops. Sh, sh, sh” As they spoke they lifted a finger up to where their lips should be, only visible for a second until one void like black melded in with the other. “And the weak hero’s don’t. The cowards, this world doesn’t NEED cowards...IT needs people like me. To protect the sheep, to protect them. A villain cannot raise a gun on someone again if they are died, yes?” Their theories were flawed, and even more so they compared themselves to other heros...When in this world there was none. No Batmans, Supermans, nothing. Just them, and who knows how long they could continue this before they caught attention they did not wish. “It is, it is. We will not deny. A sad fate, yes? That this must happen, that this is how some must be protected. Not my fault, no, no. Societies. If it had not been so bleak, so black, I would not be needed...I would not be.” Plaque now took a moment to think over this, they would not have found their host had she not been left int he gutters to die, riddled with holes. “No, no, no, not have been here...Have we introduced ourselves? We forget...Have you? Who are you”

[a-snow-witch-arrives]

Okay, so things are getting desperate. I have about $40 to feed 4 people, including two kids for 2 weeks because fucking DHS is being an asshole and not loading my Food Assistance til Next month. Despite the fact that the reason we got out case closed was THEY LOST MY FUCKING VERIFICATIONS. TWICE. 

 So please, please if you can commission me, please do, if you want to donate to help feed my family instead https://www.paypal.me/Schaudtfamily is our family PayPal. But I am willing to get a Venmo or a SquareCash acct. Whatever someone needs.

Please, I hate begging, and I hate that I have had to ask for commission so often this year but things were finally starting to look up here before this all hit. Between losing our food assistance, and our fridge dying and taking all our food with it (someone gave us their old one. It’s not great but at least it’s cold) I don’t know what the hell I am going to do this month. So please, please help. 

[herecomesplaque]

Forgot to post over here but have been super slow with stuff because I got a new laptop and can finally play all those games I bought and couldn’t play before. I’ll try and reply at least twice each day, in the morning and night. On that note though since I am lacking over here, anyone want a starter?

[herecomesplaque]

Bad Habits

nail biting | throat clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | nose picking | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals | skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full | humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot tapping | hair twirling | whistling | eye rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching | gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | biting inside of cheek | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back of their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders tagged by: @bludhavens-backside Tagging: @fork-meet-socket

[herecomesplaque]

drtoaster:

“I’ll give you a gun later and you can shoot me with it. Pretty much if it’s below a certain calibre, my armour can take it.” He paused, seeming to frown as they didn’t go for the bowl. “Well bloody eat it then. I don’t want one of the only meals I’ve cooked without destroying something to go to waste. That’s a fucking miracle right there.” Toaster remarked, pointing at the bowl. The Cyborg himself was hungry, as usual, but wasn’t about to take his helmet off so quickly.

“Remind me never to get you drunk. If this is your normal conversation then I dread to think what you’re like after you’ve had a few.” He sighed, sticking one end of the straw in his drink, and the other into a port on his helmet and taking a sip. At the question of his size overall, he paused.

“Well basically the reason they, and I, are so big, is because I was biologically and Cybernetically augmented against my will about 589 years ago or something.” Toaster grumbled, clearly a little put out by the memory. “I mean I was even freakishly tall for a Cyborg. Seven feet to seven and a half was average for a non-redacted type Cyborg. Eight feet was frankly huge for one of us.” He mused, pausing to sip his drink again.

“So I guess when they made me big, my original one got big too, and then the second one also came out big when I fucked with my DNA. Dunno really. I don’t remember anything before being made a Cyborg.”

“A gun...” Plaque spoke, sounding baffled for a second before their full atrention fell upon the mac n cheese. The okay was given and soon enough they pulled it towards themselves. Each spoon full of that sweet sweet cheesy goodness was pushed through the shadows, deep into the void and devoured.  “What, do you not like how I speak? Does it distress, is it odd, odd, odd. Or are you worried, weary, of what topics we will unleash when the filtered are destroyed. The cacophony the babbles, spews, drips from these blackened lips. Don’t you want to know whats on our minds? Don’t you want to glimpse, see, learn, what we, Plaque, think about. Or are you simply not ready for the dread, the overtly weird topics, curiosity that I wonder, ponder...Also thank you for the food”  God they were weird. “Huh, odd, interesting, but odd, and, unfortunate. We suspect you could bull rush through a wall though. Yes, no? Deets, facts?”

[incorrect-leverage]

[herecomesplaque]

My writing style: Pregnant pauses for days and comedic. Me when trying to write anything serious: Don’t you dare you piece of shit, this is serious town, no laughs n’ giggles here mate...You’re gonna ruin the very atmosphere you’re trying to create!

[herecomesplaque]

zetastyles:

“…” Rex thought on that for a moment. While he did suddenly develop the urge to play miniature golf, jumping all the way to Florida or California seemed like kind of a hassle to do last moment. 

“There’s a local place for that too, probably. Let’s hurry before they close.”

There was a small snicker, check mate, game won. Though Plaque could only imagine how this was going to go, two grown ass hero adults just playing put put. Granted Rex looked pretty normal, but Plaque, fuck naw. “Let us fly” Plaque then spoke, ready to walk as fast as needed to get to the put put place, willing to allow Rex to lead. “And get ready to lose”

[herecomesplaque]

zetastyles replied to your post: "... So. Where'd ya wanna eat?"

“… That. That is too far away. We can get pizza and play skee ball locally though. That tickle yer fancy?”

“Rex, are you afraid That I’ll ...Mmmm Beat your ass in at put put?” Pregnant pauses as Plaque grinned at the other, of course they were fine with this but at the same time it felt vital to heckle the other. They barely got to heckle anyone, hell, the last person they tried to heckle by giving them a nickname punched then into next Tuesday. Which was rude, very rude.

[herecomesplaque]

"... So. Where'd ya wanna eat?"

A smile slowly crept across Plaque’s face, one that would go completely unseen under the shadows. He remembered! Yes, yes, good! And of course there was only one place Plague wanted to go, a place they kept seeing on the tv, a place for fun and food.“Magic Mountain, Magic Mountain!” Wait, Plaque no. That’s not for you, that’s for kids. Plague, please. “We can get pizza and then play put put!” Plaque, it would look so creepy if two grown ass adults went to Magic Mountain, don’t do this to yourself much less Rex. “Yeyeyeye!”Lord.

[herecomesplaque]

drtoaster:

Toaster shrugged at that, simply serving up the mac and cheese into a bowl and setting it down on the counter. “Yeah because that doesn’t sound creepy at all.” He muttered, shaking his head and heading the the fridge, retrieving a can of beer and inspecting it for a moment.

“Solid works for me. My armour is a classified titanium alloy with composite elastic layers, and a acid retardant plastic coating. Virtually bullet proof. I do have some less solid means of protecting myself as well, but the armour deals with most of it.” He explained, knocking on his chest plate as he hunted around for a straw.

“Some people like large. Honestly it’s more just in proportion with the rest of me. I mean I am over seven feet tall, even without my power armour on.” He pointed out. “Besides big is fine as long as you lubricate properly, and besides that most of the people I hang around with are as big as me anyway.” He muttered. “Besides it’s not like I have to use both.” He remarked, retrieving a straw and cracking open his beer. “Hope you don’t mind if I drink, because if we’re gonna continue down this line of discussion, I’m gonna fucking need one.”

Plaque wriggled their fingers at the bowl, wanting to grab it, to dig in...But they were not yet given permission to do so. They did not know if this was a bowl for one, or two. Could they have it all, was it truly done, they did not know and soon they turned their void stare in Toaster’s direction as their fingers continued to wriggle away. “I would like to test how solid you are, but not now, not here, not when it has a chance of ruining a beautiful thing. Mac n Dicks” Plaque paused for a moment before there was a weird snort of a laughter within them, food and the talk of weenies, what an important moment. How very mature of them. “No, no feel free, your home, your anatomy being discussed. We simply are grateful to be able to talk of suck things so casually. We never get answers to these things, always wondering, never knowing. Internet only goes so far...Why are you so big? Where you born as such or did you mess with your genes again.”