The Therapy is Spreading

Independent RP/Ask blog for Waylon Park. OC Friendly and AU friendly, will also reblog Outlast related junk/whatever I like

[iblewthewhistle]

RP Rule List

I do Outlast and Outlast related content, not limited to but including: sexual assault, manipulation, murder, coercion, and bodily harm. I also enjoy questionable content including most horror tropes. This is not the blog for you if you are easily offended by any or all of these. If you would not consume horror movies I strongly urge you to leave now.

I myself was born in '87 and am female. I have very few issues with RP content. I also write oneshots, shorts and drabbles that are also cross posted from my main blog.

If you want to play with my Waylon, I urge you to know that he is a bi man who still loves his wife despite everything. He is versatile and can switch top or bottom. If he is in a relationship in one verse, it does not apply to all verses. He is fine with OC's, canon compliance or canon divergent muses.

For NSFW content, you must be 18+. Non Negotiable.

If you still wish to play, have a scroll, find some memes, send me an ask. Love you guys, keep well.

[emolgana]

incredible stuff happening out there

[queenofattolia]

#the “celebrities” are found through lovingly curating a circle of insane mutuals who you think are the coolest people ever (via @no-where-new-hero)

[effiestrinkets]

gwyneth paltrow used to be on tumblr 😭

[iblewthewhistle]

Cole Sprouse resurfaces every once in a while and it's insane for the ten minutes he's active

[saltygalaxypost]

[eddietrashkin]

don’t mind me i’ll just leave this here..

[iblewthewhistle]

Danny picking him up made Waylon squawk out in angry indignation. "Danny! Put me down, goddamn it!" He sniped, trying to get the other to drop him. "You wanted me to fix the blasted thing!"

[l-ethiferous]

His grip was vice-like, iron. Mainly from constant hauling the dead weight of his victims, fighting with those that struggled, or just indignate angry co-workers here like Waylon who Danny was not having any of his nonsense for the day.

"Yeah, I did want you to fix it," the clipped tone was a warning, followed up by the tightening of his hold on the other. "But it looks more like you're going to fuck it up even more, so outside you're going."

[iblewthewhistle]

Waylon groaned out and he slumped in surrender, but he did manage to push himself up enough so he wasn't face first against Danny's back. "I'm not going to fuck it up, you already did that. You need to boot it again and find the virus you infected it with."

[iblewthewhistle]

✂ - for my muse to snap at yours as a result of a bad mood

Waylon sighed out softly as he went through the files on his computer, broken and missing, all ruined. He stabbed at the power button, and looked up. "Get out of here, I'm busy." He snapped at Danny.

[l-ethiferous]

Well, that solidified one of the reasons why he wasn't going to leave. Normally, he should be offended. In reality; he didn't give a shit, only seeing this as an oppertunity to further mess with the other in the office. "Yeah, nah," he snorted, grabbing the other roughly by the back of his neck and holding him aloft like a dangling marionette and quite literally, dragging him outside.

Admittedly, such actions were a rather unorthodox approach to an irritated potential victim, but Danny found the other's constant whining at the computer more irritating than anything else. Honestly, turning the stupid thing on and off again was not working in this case, and he was not going to sit through listening to the other's complaints.

[iblewthewhistle]

Danny picking him up made Waylon squawk out in angry indignation. "Danny! Put me down, goddamn it!" He sniped, trying to get the other to drop him. "You wanted me to fix the blasted thing!"

[iblewthewhistle]

♡ i think this was thr plotting meme fhgjv

So what new aus are being cooked up this time...

[iblewthewhistle]

[ waterfall ] — your muse comes down my muse’s throat (listen im sobbing buuuuut) @l-ethiferous

Listen, listen, if that's what you want, we can arrange that dear

[iblewthewhistle]

Sadly, on the 23rd of August we lost a member of our family.

We love you, Jynx. RIP

[iblewthewhistle]

✂ - for my muse to snap at yours as a result of a bad mood

Waylon sighed out softly as he went through the files on his computer, broken and missing, all ruined. He stabbed at the power button, and looked up. "Get out of here, I'm busy." He snapped at Danny.

[iblewthewhistle]

Never forget the time I was told off for explicit chat in the Outlast Discord I joined because, and I quote: there are minors here.

And the time I was shamed for liking a pairing in the DBD discord.

[rustywired]

fuck you *reverses ur outlast*

[iblewthewhistle]

sorry for being so inactive, I've really been trying to work through this year. Things have been wild but I think I'm ready to get back into RPing. I'll try to do some on Sundays for now. But please let me know if you're still interested.

[unrclypirxte]

@iblewthewhistle - Cont.

---

"Not many people did make it," Admittedly, Beth didn't know how she survived. Especially with BLAIRE roaming about and the many crazed experiments roaming the halls. The thought had her averting her gaze for a few seconds, as if trying to decipher how. Complete blind luck.

"I didn't think you'd be around after the footage went out," A truthful thing, for she'd figured him DEAD the second she was sent the whistleblower's handiwork. Murkoff would be after him. Maybe even after both of them, if she knew the corporation ( she did, very well ) .

"I'm alright, mate. Still working," Though she dared not to say more. No, Waylon didn't need all the details. She smiled softly, eyes unusually subdued as she glanced him fron head to toe. "How are you? How the fuck are you not dead?"

[unrclypirxte]

"So, do I know the mystery man who's stalking you?" Beth quirked her SIGNATURE smirk, the one he'd used to see when she had a shitty idea or had pissed someone off. Clearly, Mount Massive had changed them both. For her, it clearly made her much more... polite. Or at least more tolerant. "I could try to help you out for a bit, mate."

His words had her chuckling, a light and airy thing that accompanied her retrieval of her pack of cigarettes. She removed one for herself and offered the rest his way. "Yeah, maybe. But things happen for a reason, no? Otherwise I'd go fucking insane thinking about why we survived and the rest didn't. I certainly deserved to die."

Glancing off to the side, she drew in a small breath through her nose. It had been a while since she'd really thought about what happened. Usually, she was drunk or working or both. What she did with Murkoff, really.

"Waylon, why do you think we lived?"

[iblewthewhistle]

"Probably not. There's a few people, one's at least sneakier than the others and I don't want to get on his bad side..." He looked out over the landscape for a moment, and turned to see Beth's achingly familiar smirk. It made him feel more at ease, more like he could deal with what hell he'd crawled through.

When she asked, quietly, Waylon's brows drew together into a frown. "What's the point of a miracle, if there aren't witnesses?" He asked. "We tried to be good in a terrible place. We tried to help. Even if it was too late." He exhaled. "I was imprisoned and Billy ascended. Feels like the perfect heaven hell parallel to me. And Miles, as Dante. Walking right into the gaping maw." He turned to look at her. "Perhaps...that makes you Virgil. Escorting him out." He stared at her for a long moment. "...or maybe...it was just a terrible miracle. One we'll forever be scarred by."

[unrclypirxte]

@iblewthewhistle - Cont.

---

"Not many people did make it," Admittedly, Beth didn't know how she survived. Especially with BLAIRE roaming about and the many crazed experiments roaming the halls. The thought had her averting her gaze for a few seconds, as if trying to decipher how. Complete blind luck.

"I didn't think you'd be around after the footage went out," A truthful thing, for she'd figured him DEAD the second she was sent the whistleblower's handiwork. Murkoff would be after him. Maybe even after both of them, if she knew the corporation ( she did, very well ) .

"I'm alright, mate. Still working," Though she dared not to say more. No, Waylon didn't need all the details. She smiled softly, eyes unusually subdued as she glanced him fron head to toe. "How are you? How the fuck are you not dead?"

[iblewthewhistle]

"Moving around a lot. Won't be here for long, I can't..." He sighed heavily. "Can't stay in one place. Someone's always watching out for me too...he's uh...quite persistent." Waylon looked over at Beth, his eyes not quite meeting her gaze. Avoiding the eyes was a good way to not call down someone's wrath. "Luck...? Maybe some God somewhere likes me. Or all the good karma got used up saving my scrawny neck." He exhaled, and rubbed at the back of his neck.

[iblewthewhistle]

As he stalked through the halls of the asylum, Waylon turned to look back the way he came, for a moment.

The walls were coated in messages, pleading for the Walrider's mercy, for God's mercy. He shook his head slowly and turned back around, to focus on where he was going. There was no mercy within these halls.

He collided hard, into someone and fell backwards with a soft "Oof."

[wien-blut]

God, this place was a shithole. Nevermind the fact this facility's methods towards the mentally ill were questionable enough, but the piles of refuse that lay scattered about, the not so subtle stench of literal shit permeating the air(he swore he saw some inmate finger painting with it a while ago.....a sight he could now never bleach from his mind), the treatment of....corpses that he utterly refuses to describe, and the general entropy the entire facility had descended into.

Control had been lost, and so were communications; after seeing the mangled corpses of other PMCs, inmates, and what appeared to be former facility workers; he truly wondered if he was even being paid enough for this bullshit.

Seeing a body being thrown telekinetically earlier enforced his decision that he truly wasn't being paid enough for this shit, and decided to hell with this.

Honestly, with how high-strung he had been at the moment, it was a miracle that he did not shoot Waylon on sight; 'shoot anything that moves', but fortunately, he was not as trigger happy as the others had been, but still the weapon was pointed right at his skull.

One bullet between the eyes was all it would take if he was one of them.

"Are you one of them?" he barked, the harshnes of his accent betraying the high anxiety that was currently coursing through his veins. "Hurry up and speak."

If Waylon could string together a coherent sentence that did not include insane ramblings of an imaginary 'deity', wasn't trying to eat someone's skin, etc; he could live.

[iblewthewhistle]

Waylon's hands shot up quickly when he realised he was staring down the barrel of the gun, his eyes on the men. "Not one of them. Tried to blow the whistle so they committed me. The way through the lobby...is it clear?" He asked, as he slowly got up, careful not to move suddenly or quickly.

[iblewthewhistle]

[ sir-miles-upshur ] How was riding my car, lad.

I never rode in…Oh my god. I stole your car. 

Fuck. I think the police took it, I kinda ditched it and ran. I am so sorry. 

[sir-miles-upshur]

Please tell me you haven’t left months of research in the hands of the police for them to get back on the Murkoff’s desks.

[iblewthewhistle]

You mean the box of folders on the backseat? I might have them. Also a jacket. I needed something to hide all the blood.

[sir-miles-upshur]

Who gives a shit about the jacket, at least I did not spend months of research to be- might? You better have those, that’s literally all the stuff I got in this situation for because of your call.

[iblewthewhistle]

Miles, Miles. I've got your research. And I backed it up onto a few dozen thumb drives. Don't worry about the physical stuff, that's with Simon.