(im)purity

years of rot manifested on skin.

[immerites]

jellicle.

“Oh, aren’t you a regular old Rum Tum Tugger, with your suggestions, you curious beast!” she wrinkled her nose at the supposed other feline. a shredded Canadian tuxedo resembling that of the 90’s royalty #Jusney ( Justin and Brittney ) lay tattered upon shoulders, and cross hatched with peaks of skin. an imaginary set of whiskers twitched at him as her gaze narrowed in even bigger suspicion. though her speculations were all for naught given his human features. it was an astronomical anomaly ! she couldn’t be sure if he could see in the dark, nor land on his feet nor grow tense when there was a rat in the air, but he had some cool cat vibes, nonetheless.

there was a possibly that she was entirely wrong in her perceptions and she would thus establish, or try to, establish her bearings on the Continental as the number one feline. it was a way to mark her own securities, the marking of territories without piss, for now.  “I can assure you, Tummy, that there is no living mouse nor rat crawling in any corner of this establishment for the one and ONLY Jellicle cat has infiltrated the Continental. Dare you look at royalty and sit upon her throne?”

a cackle of laughter commenced, “Can you say that your bite is stronger than your bark? DO YOU EVEN KNOW HOW TO GO TO THE HEAViSIDE LAYER? I don’t think so MISTER.” an aggressively playful finger poked his chest. “Which alley cat do you serve anyways? I’m pretty sure,” no she fucking wasn’t, “I’m onto you.”

‎

something  began  to  curl,  to  writhe,  restless  in  his   chest,  tigrid  in  nature,  unsettled  by  the  sheer  bewildering   energy  of  the  house cat  before  him.  eyes  narrowed  and  brows   quirked,  carried  the  same  weight  as  an  animal  pinning  it’s   ears  back  in  irritation,    “  you  are  quite  deranged.  “

as her  finger  moved  to  touch  him,  his  hands  raced  to  grip  her   wrist,  bruisingly  tight  and  fiercely  quick,    “  no,”  he  said,   in  the  same  tone  as  someone  might  scold  a  wayward  child  or   errant  pet,  uniquely  sharp,  condescending  but  placating  at  the   same  time,  “  don’t  touch  me,  cat,  i’ll  break  every  bone  in   your  arm  and  then  we  can  truly  measure  bite  to  bark.  “

he was  not  above  it,  but  still  let  her  go  after  a  stretching   moment,  “  i  don’t  serve  anyone,  “  true  to  an  extent,  he   served  himself,  his  survival,  the  pursuit  of  blood  and   avoidance  of  shame,  “what  exactly  is...  the  heaviside  layer?”

[immerites]

amanita.

Dottie & Laszlo | @immerites​​

Young and hungry, she’d climb to the top ranks even her red-soled heels had to step on the backs of others to get there. It was all in the name of business, wasn’t it? Surely, her associates would understand. “They dragged me to a deserted island for a dead mobster’s car collection,” she said. “Like, can you believe it? I was told there was going to be treasure.”

The motorboat cruised close to the dock. Sunset swathed the antiques she’d piled onto the boat – vases, paintings, furniture, and three types of cuckoo clocks – in a warm, peachy hue. “I wasn’t coming back empty handed,” she said. Though not her preferred form of spoils, she’d still made arrangements with The Continental for pickup. She’d pawn off as much as she could, then allow the hotel’s fencers to network with buyers in exchange for a fraction of the profits. “Might as well get some work done while those idiots race around in their rusty chariots!”

Dottie waved a flippant hand, her glitter polish only slightly chipped after the day’s adventures. Droplets of oceanwater clung to her sunburnt shoulders, and the scent of sea spray mingled with her hair. She’d taken to heart the explorer role, having mostly dressed for the occasion: a beige tank that’d started her expedition stark white, a camouflage jacket (missing one sleeve for tourniquet purposes on a teammate) tied around her waist, and khaki shorts where the sheath of a knife was clipped to. Nevertheless, she wouldn’t be Dottie without extra sparkle, and her knee-length boots were hot pink.

“I’m totally convinced they just wanted to play real life Hot Wheels, and only invited me along because they need someone to wave the checkered flag,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Once they arrange the transportation fees…well, their profit won’t even cover the amount I spent on sunscreen!” 

‎

treasure  did  not  oft  warrant  trekking  through  palm  fronds  and  the  restless  roots  of  trees,  this  laszlo  knew  intimately.  he  had  long  since  stopped  accepting  expeditions  whose  bounty  did  not  justify  the  trouble,  and  yet  employers  kept  pestering,  lying  even,  to  coax  him  from  the  comfort  of  the  continental.

that  was  how  he’d  ended  up  entangled  in  the  mission;  waiting  at  the  docks  as  receiver  and  handler,  kevlar  clinging  to  his  skin  beneath  a  loose  turtleneck,  rifle  slung  over  one  shoulder,  free  hand  manning  a  cigarette  from  a  soft  pack  tucked  within  the  upper  pocket  of  his  dark  tactical  pants.  he’d  spent  a  lion's  share  of  the  day  tying  up  or  otherwise  disposing  of  any  personnel  still  left  on  the  sound  by  the  time  the  cargo  was  set  to  arrive,  and  as  such  was  less  than  enthused  by  dottie’s  assessment.

“  they  need  to  add  fine  print  to  these  contracts,  ”  he  hummed,  blandly,  as  if  discussing  something  as  mundane  as  office  work,  and  offered  an  arm  to  assist  the  grifter,  who  he  saw  as  similarly  swindled,  off  the  boat.  her  haul  was  not  unimpressive,  given  the  circumstances;  a  variety  of  valuables,  some  more  worthwhile  than  others  but  all  equally  interesting  in  their  own  way,  and  the  sprawl  was  enough  to  ease  his  apprehensions  that  the  entire  endeavor  had  been  thoroughly  unproductive.  she  clearly  had  an  eye  for  value  that  laszlo  could  not  imagine.

his  approval  went  largely  unspoken,  though  his  posture  grew  less  taut,  less  authoritative,  “  is  this  the  only  vessel  for  the  assignment?  “  a  long  pause,  in  which  he  took  a  drag,  retrohaling  away  from  her  so  as  to  not  drape  the  conversation  in  smoke,  “  i  was  told  to  expect  two,  you  didn’t  leave  behind  your  friends  for  their  trouble,  did  you?  “  he  found  himself  amused  by  the  idea,  he  was  not  above  stranding  someone  for  causing  annoyance,  but  knew  that  if  she  had  he  would  likely  be  the  one  to  go  retrieve  the  castaways.

“  there’s  a  car  waiting,  “  he  nodded  in  the  direction  of  the  vehicle,  neatly  parked  behind  a  rusted  storage  crate,  “  should  you  want  to  go  anywhere  instead  of  wait,  “  her  lot  would  be  neatly  sorted,  appraised  and  catalogued  before  it  made  it’s  rotation  through  the  various  fences,  and  though  he  had  little  input  to  add  during  that  process  he  was  still  bound  as  a  hired  gun  to  ensure  that  it  went  smoothly.    “  if  you  want  to  take  anything  for  yourself,  i’m  not  looking,  “

[immerites]

               @rottencoresx​ (HAN)  SAID: “ you  lied  about  who  you  are! “

spurred  by  the  accusation,  and  for  perhaps  the  first  instance  in  their  short  acquaintanceship,  laszlo  looked,  truly  looked,  at  han.  it  was  the  sort  of  gaze  that  laid  bare  the  best  of  people,  cavernous  and  carnivorous  simultaneously,  and  as  he  looked  something  suffused,  a  necrotic  expression  between  disdain  and  disregard,  on  his  face.  he  was  not  amicable  at  the  best  of  times,  in  fact  some  might  consider  him  dreadful,  but  that  sour,  curdled  nature  that  seemed  to  drip  like  sweat  from  the  associate  set  his  teeth  on  edge.

“  i  don’t  have  to  justify  whether  i  did  or  didn’t      ”    he  emphasised  the  latter,  heavily,  as  if  it  were  the  only  option,  “       to  you.  we’re  coworkers,  quite  removed  from  each  other,  we  don’t  owe  each  other  honesty.  ”

[moments-hq]

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[immerites]

rottencoresx​:

LOTTIE & LAZLO || @immerites​

at any rate, she couldn’t really control when her cat jail time was up. it was just a feeling in her jellies. and yeah, every once and while she’d go full feral and embrace the kitty hulk within, but she’d be forced to live as a normal domestic cat for a full week as a consequence. 

so to paint the picture, a normal 10 pound black cat first rubbed against the back of his calves, featherlike as if trying to trace a scent. then it circled in front of him. the next minute, she was on two feet, and sporting a pair of tattered clothes (the ones she’d lost her literal feral shit in, a week prior). the curse would typically shed some decency on her when her transformation was complete. THANK GOD. but it was still a little embarrassing, trying to cover up her now, human body, with little scraps of a previous pantsuit. but it is what it is and she has no shame, “I know what you’re thinking Holy shit, that cat just turned into a human and magically grew clothes. Which isn’t entirely inaccurate–”

call it a cat thing, but there was something big diffy about this one, and it wasn’t just the whole, merc for money thing either. there was something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. and, of course, in her true oblivion, she had to approach. The Continental’s grounds all but assured her that he’d play nice. though springing a shift on him probably wasn’t the best way to initiate conversation. “I prefer the cat side of things, humans fucking suck.” she took a beat, “but you seem only a little sus. What’s your deal anyways?”

‎

     his  body  came  to  greet  the  continental  like  an  old  friend,  even  in  layover,  perversely  mortal.  he  had  no  luggage,  rarely  ever  brought  anything  with  him  to  the  building,  yet  he’d  leave  with  cashmere  and  armani  shielding  the  neatly  filed,  untraceable  beretta  m9s  tucked  away  in  dark  leather  shoulder  holsters.  every  month,  when  he  could,  he’d  make  the  pilgrimage  home  to  this  sanctuary  to  live  out  the  penance  of  his  abilities  in  complete  solitude.

      almost  complete,  at  least.  he  barely  had  a  moment  to  register  the  animal,  numbed  to  stimuli  as  he  was,  before  it  melted  away  into  a  woman.  he  kept  his  expression  neutral,  but  a  tiny,  febrile  hint  of  shock  managed  to  slip  it’s  way  under  his  skin;  abilities  that  could  transform  a  person  sparked  both  awe  and  discomfort  in  him.  he  wasn’t  sure  if  he  could  give  away  his  body,  the  only  mirage  of  humanity  he  had  to  cling  to.

“  sus?  “  a  flat  echo  of  her  phrasing;  maybe  she  could  feel  the  aura  of  the  tiger  that  was  slowly  shaking  off  its  sleep  within  him,  he  couldn’t  read  her  intentions,  and  so  he  slipped  seamlessly  into  passive  aggression,  “  i  have  no  deal,  shouldn’t  someone  like  you  be  chasing  mice?  “

[immerites]

what’s that scent? the smell of shattered moonstone & ozone, which would explain the appearance of laszlo hyeon. continental records indicate they are known as ceres, a forty-two year old executive associate. they have the unique ability of zodiac empowerment.  they were specifically selected for enrollment for the taiga incident, where they hunted and eliminated key members of the bratva hidden in the siberian wilderness. they can be asocial and distrustful, but also patient and enduring. we wish them well in their business to come.

hello. i’m blue (he/him), nineteen, est! here’s a brief rundown of laz? i am so sorry in advance

he was born in hungary, his mother (who later became a politician) put him up for adoption a few months after his birth, maintaining she felt absolutely no connection to her son.

he was in and out of the hospital frequently, frequently sick due to the cyclical nature of his powers which are tied to the chinese zodiac. i’ll write a post abt that in a bit but as a basic rundown:

rat: reactive adaptation, rat swarming, water 

ox: dermal armor, horn manipulation, earth 

tiger: enhanced agility, night vision, wood 

rabbit: enhanced hearing, enhanced leap, wood 

dragon: enhanced condition, scale armor, earth 

snake: enhanced taste & smell, venomous bite, fire 

horse: self sustenance, danger intuition, fire

sheep: prey instinct, cold resistance, earth

monkey: brachiation, prehensile tail (dissipates during cooldown period), metal

rooster: feather manipulation (no flight/wings), hollow skeleton, metal

dog: enhanced tracking, enhanced senses, earth

pig: accelerated metabolism, matter ingestion, water

the elements at the end are the ones each sign is associated with. the opposite element (fire’s opposite is water, for example) becomes extremely effective against laz throughout the duration of that sign. he has a 7-10 day period of complete powerlessness between each animal cycle where he becomes essentially human. 

anyway. up until he was sixteen, his life was governed by the weaknesses of his powers. there was no guide book, he had little explanation for what was going on. his hearing would become overwhelmingly good for three weeks, the return to normal that followed would feel like his head was being held under water, his metabolism would kick into overdrive and his weight would drop drastically, he’d suddenly become incredibly aware of everything and would be broken down by accompanying anxiety, his bones would become weak and hollow, breaking easily, ect ect.

it wasn’t until he began recording the durations and symptoms of each iteration in the cycle that he recognised it did, in fact, have a pattern. once he recognised a pattern he could better prepare for it. once he could prepare for the downsides, he started to experience the enhancements that his mutation offered. 

once he had his first taste of power as a teenager, it became an addiction. he began preplanning and committing crimes, at first it was just robbery. he was hungry and largely on his own, but devolved into breaking into homes, into fighting and assault.

it was like he’d been given the reins back after being out of control for most of his life, but those reins did little to restore control. he gained infamy in budapest until he was brought to his knees in front of the syndicate of mutants who operated in the city.

recognising he was essentially at the mercy of his conditioning, they took him in after some intense hazing. their connections and training were what gave him enough traction to finally function. he was mentored by eris, a superhuman with a cyclical mutation that had similar detriments to his own, and was trained in fore-planning while he explored the full extent of each animals’ abilities. 

now, nearing twenty-six years into his career, he is renowned for his ability to adapt to his ever-changing circumstances. he takes jobs with long deadlines that benefit from his unnervingly proficient skill to plan out all possible outcomes and allow him to wait for the best arsenal of skills at his disposal to become available to him.

age has somewhat diluted his lust for power but has not made a dent in his fear of powerlessness. he becomes EXTREMELY RAW and uncomfortable around others when he is between animals. not that he’s a reasonably nice person in general but he’s arguably more tolerable when he doesn’t feel like he could be easily targetable :sob: