W A R

[the-book-diaries]

I am not actually tired, but numb and heavy, and can’t find the right words. All I can say is: Stay with me, don’t leave me.

Franz Kafka, Letters To Felice (via the-book-diaries)

@timidrxse

[deliccte]

Let’s be real , I’m too lazy for a real promo right now …

So … do you like short girls who are filled with bitter anger ? How about cute girls who are filled with way too much love for other people ? A girl who’s had a real shit lot in life , but she’s still out here trying her best … only because she can’t do anything else . A girl who’s always got a cyanide pill in her purse . 

Fawn “Flaky” Rosewood from Happy tree friends. Independent. Selective. Private.

[littersletters]

my little monster (2012)

[rp-starters-ask-box-fillers]

Ask muse how good they are at..

💋 - kissing 👼 - babysitting 🍛 - cooking 💃 - dancing 🎭 - acting/performing arts 🍻 - tolerating alcohol 😠 - managing with their temper 📝- planning and following their plan 🎤- singing 🙊 - keeping secrets 🌷- taking care of plants/pets 😈 - manipulating with others 🏊 - swimming 😂 - telling jokes 📰 - keeping track of world news 📚 - worlds history knowledge ⌚- keeping track of time 💪 - staying fit 😏 - lying 🚗 - driving a car 👗 - dressing with style 🔮 - magic 🔪 - melee weapons 🔫 - ranged weapons 💞 - expressing their feelings 😓 - acknowledging mistakes 🎺 - playing an instrument 🎁 - making gifts ✊ - keeping promises

[immortal-casualty]

———  BASICS! ♡

NAME! Ghoster, Player, Trashbag PRONOUNS! He/Him/His TAKEN OR SINGLE! Single

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

1! One day I hope to become an author and publish fiction books.

2! I use role-playing, across any site, as a means to practice and improve at writing and all that’s associated with it.

3! I share a birthday with a relatively recent indie game that grew to massive popularity.

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED! Tumblr, Chatango, sometimes Discord, Skype at one point, and I’m ashamed to say--Roblox.

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

FEMALE OR MALE! Either or baby.

LEAST FAVORITE FACE(S)! I’m not entirely sure as to what this question refers to, but I guess I’ll go with my own?

MULTI OR SINGLE! Usually single or not at all, if we’re talking about ships and stuff, although I am multiverse friendly and often make different verses. Am I doing this questionnaire right?

FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! All of the above, baby.

PLOT / MEMES! Please, yes, please.

Tagged by :@timidrxse

Tagging: @daughterofthedream, @energystole, @booichy, and anyone else that wants to do it!

[immortal-casualty]

KISKA:

♡ As his much larger hands took and enveloped her own, she felt no pain pain, the warmth of his hands all that she could now feel, “D-Damiaan…” Voice spoke his name like a sigh of relief, arms moved to wrap around his torso as so she could clutch to him with a tight embrace. Breathing in his warm, familiar scent that made heart begin to flutter, words were muffled into his chest as not wishing to pull away, “I-I… I j-just found m-my old j-journal… I h-hadn’t read it i-in so long… I d-didn’t realize h-how bad… I j-just I only r-remember who I l-lost… I d-don’t remember w-writing any of t-those things…”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. The old leather journal had been within the box and she had glanced through it, though the cause of heart ache and violent sobbing came from the letters of the man she knew the veteran had also lost. While the man had shared blood with her, she felt it was Damiaan who had more right to Collin family than she ever did. The only reason she believed he gave them her name as for who they should give his belonging to if he passed, was so that he knew who held it would never return it to the place they had both once called home. Even having gone so far to change their family name to that of one that reminding him of the rodents that he had kept as a boy. Flora had thought of doing the same, but there was only one other last name she wished to have and she had been patiently waiting.

“I-I’m just glad y-you’re here now… C-Can we s-stay in t-tonight instead m-maybe?…” Looking up to meet hues like that of a forest made of emeralds, delicate fingers gripped the jacket of his uniform to be sure he remained close as if afraid he vanish. “I h-have a n-new recipe that I-I want to make f-for you and I have s-some cookie d-dough in the fridge r-ready to go!” All she wished for since she was a little girl, was to be the one who made Damiaan happy. Seeing his smile made her heart feel as though it was going to burst, hearing his laugh made her fall in love with him all over…

Collin was gone. Telling him their relation would only cause him to feel misplaced guilt and torture himself all over again. All the proof was hidden away and later she planned to turn the proof into nothing but ashes and memories.

Their secret would be taken to her grave.

Transitioning from holding Floressa’s hands to squeezing her against his chest, the towering veteran swaddled her in thick, scarred arms. He held the back of her head, cradling it in his immense hand, as he pressed the lower half of his visage into the wild mane of crimson locks. The other mitt preoccupied itself with running long and calloused fingers through the fiery locks of hair. Flowers, coffee and shampoo filled his nostrils with far greater intensity than the ambient aroma of the abode ever could. And no matter where his bare skin touched, every part of the woman who dominated his heart was soft and pleasant.

 Listening to her words, Damiaan found a familiar burning ache suffuse the back of his eyes. A faint golden tint washed over his irises as either pupil shrunk to half their size, yet still nowhere near the level his were. The thought of the WAR wished to give rise to memories he was so feverish to bury and forget. BILE threatened to swell up in the back of his throat as the rank STENCH of ichor, steaming viscera and decay tried to replace her scent. For a moment, the trundle of M41A3s and PATTONS filled his ears.  He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, focusing only on Floressa and her voice.  So long as he could, he’d never let him out to terrify Floressa or anyone else again--the MONSTER wouldn’t see the light of day.  “Yeah...” While he was more than elated to be near her, to be needed by her--something felt off. Things always did whenever she cried, to be fair. But something about what she said didn’t sit right with him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, though, and so could only so much as glance in the direction of the bed before meeting the petite woman’s gaze. “Of course, of course, Schatje, I’d love nothing more~”

 Unadulterated adoration, laced with concern, brimmed within his vivid emeralds floating amidst an ocean of white chocolate. A hand pulled back to rest against one of her cheeks, his hard calloused fingers caressing her silky skin. When he saw her beatific smiling visage, he couldn’t help but produce a smile of his own. His thumb brushed away whatever moisture was left from her crying.  “I just... need a moment to put something away, alright? Go on down and get started, I’ll be with you shortly after~”

[whooh-rpmusings]

                                                         Sometimes I’d stay up all night                                                 Wishing to God that I was the one who died.

[immortal-casualty]

LIFTY & SHIFTY:

『 € 』 the twins couldn’t believe that he actual wanted this cheap piece of shit. his words of this being something he might have seen overseas meant that there was a chance of their price sky rocketing from a few measly dollars. 

of course they knew they had a current bet going on between them, unsurprisingly, their greed always got the better of them. it was their weakness, their achilles’ heel so to speak. 

they could always settle it another day. 

matching faces grinned at each other as shifty placed the painting somewhere behind him a little haphazardly. he could always make a new one if it got damaged with his manhandling. all he cared about was how much money they could sucker this guy out of. 

『 ¥  』the youngest decided to be the one to speak up. since this was his vase that he painted and spent at least an hour carving into it, he figured he had the right to explain it. as best as he could conjure up something believable. ❝nyehehe, i knew ya had a good eye for thin’s like this buddy. we–i, found this in buried deep underground. shifty thought it was a waste of our time to spend it diggin’. but see, i heard from the grapevine that there was some nice treasures tucked away from pryin’ eyes by this famous pirate or whatever. ‘m not gonna lie to ya, i sorta stopped listenin’ once i heard treasure was at stake. ‘course once we started diggin’ we ain’t find nuthin’ and this guy here wanted to call it quits. not me, i kept goin’ until lo’ and behold i find this baby,❞ lifty held the vase close enough to him  in a protective manner as if he was almost hesitant to give it away. 

❝i tried my best to show it some nice love ‘n care to bring it back to its former glory, but trust me when i say this thin’ here is the real deal.❞ he explained as he took note of the paint that still wet and was grateful he didn’t get any on himself.

『 $ 』 shifty rolled is eyes at his younger brother’s fable. for a thief, he really liked to make his lies elaborate. he elbowed him in the side as he tried to take all the credit in his little story. they had to settle on a price before he stared any deeper into this, because shifty had a feeling the other could figure out this was fake sooner or later if he truly was into something like this. 

call it his intuition, but it was something that kept them out of the worse case scenarios. 

❝now comes the part most don’t like to talk ‘bout, but if ya really are interested in this lil’ ol’ thing; payment is an issue.❞

The veteran kept a close watch on the two’s reaction to his inquiry, and upon seeing the grins manifest across their faces nigh-simultaneously, Damiaan narrowed his eyes and took in a deep breath. Already he could tell he was in for a ride.

 Staring down at the duo, the veteran regarded the one eager to spin his yarn with the same level of interest he gave anyone that wanted to tell him a story. The difference was, however, that he didn’t buy a single word of what this man had to tell him. In truth, he expected one of the two to have enough sense to pick up on the incredulity his question had been laced with. But whatever greedy desires that gripped them seemed more than willing to render them blind and deaf to such things. Although, they did at least avoid giving an answer to the last part of what he said prior--so, at least, they knew how to keep from getting caught right out the gate.  Maybe it was better that way? Who was he to say?  Why did they seem so familiar? It was on the tip of his tongue!  On and on the man spoke, going to great lengths in order to fabricate a gripping story to really sell the incredible value of whatever shoddy item the two had tried to pawn off on him. It was actually quite a tale, Flippy had to admit. However, he couldn’t keep himself from raising an eyebrow at the implication some ancient vase, in nigh perfect condition, had been found underground and buried, part of a pirate’s treasure trove.  It took a lot of willpower to refrain from chuckling.

 Loud.  They were very loud.  And so too was the white noise in his head.  God, why couldn’t he have woke up with a clear head today?  He took a long drag of the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling before taking the stick between two fingers and holding it to the side. Then he turned to breathe out a column of grey smog from his nostrils.  God, he was tired.  Damiaan regarded the lookalike wearing a fedora, cocking his head to one side as the subject of money was brought up. He did his best to flash the most amiable grin he could muster before placing the cigarette back where it belonged.  “Before we talk about that, may I ask--how old are you two? Seem a bit too baby-faced to be daring, treasure-hunting adventurers, don’t you?”

[immortal-casualty]

LIFTY & SHIFTY:

『 $ 』 shifty shoved his brother to the side as he leaned over their little stall to grin at the man. his green eyes looked the other up and down trying to size him up to see if he was worth their time.  ❝if it wasn’t obvious, we’re just tryin’ to make a decent livin’ as anyone would. we were hopin’ that ya could help us with that. ❞

  『 ¥ 』lifty narrowed his eyes at his brother before squeezing next to him and held out a vase. it had detailed carvings etched into it that were painted muted colors of blues, warm reds, and yellows.〔 of course it was something they forged themselves with the help of a plastic vase and some paint 〕 ❝this is just one of many items that we have layin’ around.❞

there was something about this guy the longer lifty stared at him that seemed familiar. he must have been one of their many victims of their sticky hands, but the younger twin pushed it to the back of his head. he had a bet to win and even if it meant they’d lose some money, he was positive that he’d ignore a little vase.

❝ignore my brother, we have better things than that old vase. ya kinda look like man of real taste. maybe ya’d be interested in a paintin’?❞ shifty shoved his sibling once more as he placed a decent sized counterfeit painting on the wooden stall, making sure to take up space. 

“Make a living...?”  Despite the size of the stall the twins used as a front for their scam, Damiaan had to lean so as to not be staring whatever sign they had at the top in the face. With this in mind, it’d become quite clear just how imposing of a man they intended to make a victim out of with their scheme. It was by no means an exaggeration to liken him to a bear with the sheer immensity of his stature. And paired together with an overt military background, evinced by the jangle of dog tags tucked beneath his collar and the ranking insignia placed upon one sleeve? Yet the soft and genuine grin he dawned, as well as the amicable air he exuded, before approaching clashed with his gorilla-like build.  He directed his gaze down to the presented item.

 Either pool of deep, molten emerald green scrutinized the vase shown to him, eyes narrowing as the nigh pinprick-sized pupils dilated ever so faintly. In the detailing, he smelt traces of still wet paint and parts where the artesian forgot to go back over with another layer. There were also places where it seemed to be the intent to have more three-dimensional to provide texture, but he’d seen enough pottery in Nitevam to know the difference between actual sculpting and someone carving into things like plastic. They always had telltale flakes near the edges of where a blade bit into them, where the material had been loosened just enough from heat. He had to close his eyes a moment and take in a deep breath at that thought. And when he looked real hard at the edges along the opening and where one would set it down, the smooth and rounded nature did not resemble how he knew pottery to be in the slightest.  The grin pulled down into a small frown as an eyebrow rose up, the corresponding eye lifting to glance at the two. He only so much as peeked at the painting before returning his attention to the two in front of him.

 “Nice vase you have, friends--where’d you pick it up, if I might ask? Reminds me of some pottery I saw overseas. What style were you going for, might I ask? I’m a real big fan of this kind of stuff.”

[immortal-casualty]

Reject the Delusions

[immortal-casualty]

Using her left and now her only functioning arm to pull herself to unsteady feet, the bottle of alcohol that had been used to disinfect her wound was taken once more. This time however, Floressa pressed the glass to her lips and took several long swallows from the bottle, cringing in disgust as she sat it it back down. Trying to fade the taste with a sip from a nearby soda, not caring who’s it may have been. Not really caring for anything anymore.

Yet she loved him more than she could put into words, so while he may not feel even the slightest bit towards her in return… The woman felt it was the least she could do in return for him. After all those years of keeping her safe, being the only one to take the time to get to know her, the only one to make her feel welcome in an unwelcoming world…

Then wondering if he had been letting her live blissfully ignorant in a delusion that he cared so deeply, did he pity her? The thought of having been in love with and waiting for a man that merely felt sorry for her and saw her as nothing more than a nuisance, made her feel as if all the hopes and dreams she had for her future…

For their future… Were shattering around all her.

Regardless of all the thoughts racing through her mind, the soldiers words sliced through them and head snapped in the direction of his bellowing voice. He stood where the pink haired girl had been left, a prop to use, turning as to bare witness his proof. Bringing the bottle up to her lips once more with trembling hand and tilting head back to finish what remained, the burning liquid that filled her stomach would only be a temporary solution to conceal the heartache and rejection felt within her… It would have to do, as the veteran needed her and seeing him better was all she could dream and wish for.

It was a grueling sight to behold as Giggles was someone who was worthy of Damiaan, someone who had caught his eye in the past and perhaps she still did? As he couldn’t have seen the pink locks and have no memory of her? Was he thinking of her? That this Tiger soldier looked like the woman back home that he wished to get back to and make his wife?

Shaking her head to attempt and rid terrible thoughts of jealously that plagued her mind as she watched through tear filled eyes and stepped forward slowly. Not as to be cautious of him, but as to not lose her balance from the effects of the alcohol already beginning to inebriate her. Unable to bare and watch the scene before her any longer, the man she loved attempting to have the woman he loved stab him through the heart to prove the delusions that haunted and terrorized him, just so he wouldn’t seem like he was going mad.

Heart ached as she stepped in front of him so he would be able to see her actions, “Damiaan… T-They… I-It’s not g-going to d-do anything, s-she wont h-hurt you…” There was nothing the could be done to even attempt and save the other woman if he demanded such of the medic, so Flaky didn’t want to tell him who it was as not wanting him to hurt further knowing he killed his love. All she wanted was to help him and make him happy and if the prettier, pink haired girl was what he needed to achieve that happiness, then so be it, but she didn’t want to feel the blame for not being able to save her for him.

“He at least called me by my real name to her…”

Placing hand upon his arm as watching the blade clatter to the floor along with the thump of the other residents now surely lifeless corpse, ruby hues gazed into those of melted gold that had been swirled with sun kissed honey, “Y-You’re safe.. Damiaan, I-I promise your m-my life, I c-coul–… I-I mean I p-promise you my l-life… T-That you’re s-safe! I w-won’t let a-anything h-happen to y-you…” Little finger was held up, hoping he still cared enough to remember that her pinky swears were never broken, “I w-would never, e-ever lie t-to you!”

“W-We should g-get out of h-here… C-Come with m-me?… P-Please…” Hand moved back to him arm, squeezing tenderly before holding it out for him to hopefully take. The tone within her voice gentle but desperate and pleading, “I-I’m feeling s-sick and w-we should g-get cleaned up… Oh! I-I c-can bake all y-your favorites j-just like o-old times?…” The stench of blood was turning foul and it threatened to bring up what little remained in her stomach, “If w-we go to m-my house, y-you’ll be s-safe, I s-swear on m-my life..” Feeling that stepping away from the corpse littered and blood splattered kitchen, would be best for him as well before he began recognizing those around them and felt the remorse of something that wasn’t truly his fault.

naaimaD’s fingers clenched the side of his visage tighter and tighter as a parade of emotion so foreign to his facial features CONTORTED his mien. Either eyebrow rose up to an angle towards one side whilst knitting together. His forehead furrowed and eyes widened bit by bit, twitching back and forth so SPORADICALLY while the black dot floating amid the pool of liquid tarnished gold shrunk even further. One end of the MONSTER’S lips were pulled back to the ear, the other stretched down towards his chin. And a tremble soon WRACKED the entirety of his body. First starting down at his legs before progressing all the way up to his head.  It couldn’t be true, could it?  The war still RAGED--he was out in the thick of it, out (t)here in the Bush!  Right?  RIGHT?  HE HAD TO BE, HE JUST HAD TO!

 Everything around him began pulling apart at the very seams like the string used by the Tigers to construct traps. Whatever FACADE he’d been using to shield himself from the grisly TRUTH fell apart (H E W A S N ‘ T M A D), bit by bit. One moment he was smack dab in the middle of the structure acting as the forward operating base for the Tigers, and the next he was squatting over the corpse of a childhood friend missing half her face.  The rolling THUNDER of F-15s ( H E W A S N ‘ T M A D ) as they tore across the sky overhead clashed against the undercurrent of a ceiling fan one room over.  Boots trudging through muck ( H E W A S N ‘ T M A D ) begot muscle SPASMS down through idle legs in an attempt to FABRICATE consistency.  Said CONTRACTIONS afflicted his upper torso in reaction to the IMAGINED bullets leaping from the yawning maws of Tiger firearms protruding out from the underbrush ( H E     W A S N ‘ T M A D ).  All around him laid the bodies of his unfortunate comrades who lacked the curse boon of IMMORTALITY, the slant-eyed bastards would pay--no one did this to HIS boys!  No one but, ( H E W A S N ‘ T M A D ) no one but himself?  No, there had to be Tigers; where was the underbrush?  WHERE WAS IT?  THE CHAVS DISAPPEARED ALONG WITH THEM!  HE WASN’T MAD!  THE BUSH OF NITEVAM, HE NEVER LEFT!  THE WAR NEVER ENDED!  THESE WEREN’T CIVILIAN BODIES!  hE DIdN’t kILl hIs FRiEndS!

  h E w A S n t M a D-  h E w A S n t M a D- h E w A S n t    M a D- h E w A S n-

 Wild, manic eyes met Floressa’s as the man snapped around to face her at her touch. He regarded the outstretched digit with the same level of apprehension someone scrutinizing a hot meal after days of wandering through a frigid tundra. Like he was a scared, desperate animal, uncertain if accepting help from one who looked like its trapper was the right thing to do, pleading for help. Did her words reach through to him? Had he understood the meaning of her gesture? Naught about his countenance gave such information away.  “I’m not...” he couldn’t even finish the sentence that’d been wailing inside his head.  After a moment of searching for something in her face, the mania screwing his face up into such an awful mien gave way to a dead-eyed, neutral stare. It was like he was looking at something past her, yet not at the same time. Brimming from either eye was the same emptiness, same lack of luster that’d evinced itself in the veteran following Floressa’s impalement of his left eye. Then, once another moment elapsed, one bloody hand reached out to take hold of hers--the same one he’d knocked away prior.  naaimaD squeezed it and held her like she’d disappear if he didn’t hold on tight enough.

 “I’m not... mad...?” Who even knew anymore?

[immortal-casualty]

LIFTY & SHIFTY:

『 € 』the twins giggled to themselves as they counted their money from their latest scam. it was always easy pickings from workers were too dead tired to pay attention to what was being sold to them. plus they always wanted the thieves to leave them alone and gave them money to do that. 

❝check out the new loser,❞ shifty nudged his twin as he pointed towards the walking veteran.  ❝i bet ten that he’ll buy from us.❞

❝twenty says he won’t.❞ the younger twin grinned as he stood up and waved at the other.  ❝hey! come here real quick, will ya?❞

Gazing up towards the boundless azure ocean hanging overhead, the veteran Damiaan, more commonly known as Flippy to the town inhabitants, paid little attention to the surroundings around him. Tired eyes watched a wispy trail of smoke from a cigarette, clasped loosely in the corner of his mouth, as it curled up into the atmosphere. He’d ventured outside for one reason or another, but he no longer could recall what they’d been. Perhaps they were important at the time, now though? Not so much. Thus his meandering down whatever sidewalk his wandering brought him to.  Thoughts swirled around inside of his head like someone took a long stick and jabbed a wasp’s nest. Yet no emotion evinced this inner turmoil, for the only thing he wore on his face was the same resting grin he always had. But those eyes, so bereft of luster, betrayed the hollowness felt within his heart and soul.

 Stopping abruptly, Flippy’s eyes trailed down from the heavens to the green paletted lookalikes attending a nondescript stall of sorts. He regarded them for a moment, processing the words of the one to call out, with an almost deadpan expression. There was something about the two itching at the back of his mind--he could not place it, though.  Had he met them before?  Did they know him?  Would anyone who knew him look so elated to see him at this point?  They looked so familiar to him, why was that?  God, there was so much noise inside his head--why couldn’t it all stop and give him just a moment of quiet?  He reached a hand back to scratch his head, shaking it this way and that as he trotted over to the two men. It’d be rude to ignore them since they seemed so amiable.

 “Yeah, what do you guys need?”

[rpxmusings]

                                            [    ]          HERO

                                            [    ]          MONSTER

                                            [ x ]          SURVIVOR

[musesgonnamuse]

being BRAVE             is STANDING up when your LEGS are S H A K I N G            & charging FORWARD when you thought you C O U L D N T even WALK

[thievingxgemini]

hello there everyone! i never thought i’d ever log back onto this account or even bring back these lil’ mischievous brats, yet here i am! i promise i’ll make a better promo later, but i wanted to get this out before it gets too late.

but if you don’t mind, please like/reblog this if you wouldn’t mind interacting with lifty and shifty from happy tree friends. 

[immortal-casualty]

[immortal-casualty]

[immortal-casualty]

Continued from this! -  @timidrxse

Moving through the interior of Floressa’s home, Damiaan sat the provisional key provided to him down on the living room coffee table after shutting and locking the front door with a click. He’d always found himself feeling anxious when entering her abode, especially when he was a great deal younger than he was now. A small part of him, enough to incite a soft grin, was elated to find the same adolescent nervousness crop up in the present day. Said grin only grew as he wandered about the interior for a while, taking in a lungful of the air to breathe in the scent of vanilla-tinged confectionary treats and coffee, something that’d prove overpowering were it not for the floral aroma undercurrent.  He only felt truly calm when surrounded by said smells these days with the only place he felt calmer being when he had his arms around Floressa.  Where was Floressa?  There arose a sound from one of the rooms located towards the back where she and Damiaan laid together come nighttime. It sounded like someone sniffling, hiccuping maybe? His forehead furrowed as he strode towards the direction in question. Yet despite his efforts to walk gingerly, the time-worn floorboards groaned under the sheer weight being moved across them, thus inciting the apprehension of the woman inside.  “Kiska?” he questioned, coming up to the door.

 He jiggled the handle to find it unlocked. “Floressa, are you okay?”  She told him she’d be a minute, but concern wore his patience with such things down to nothing. Thus he cracked the door open, just enough to poke his head through. He saw her pull out from under the bed, and immediately the veteran noticed the discoloration along the sides of either of her hands. Both her cheeks were flushed red like the shade of her irises, of which there was a puffiness from prolonged bawling.  Eyes widening, he swung the door open and hurried in to reach out and try to take hold of her hands for better scrutiny.  “Floressa, malishka, what’s wrong? Why are your hands bruised--have you been crying?”