As a multimuse roleplayer my goal is to give each and every rp partner an awesome experience!
I understand folks have jobs and lives outside of our rps, as I have things to do myself, so never fear about losing a rp due to inactivity!
Rps are supposed to be fun hobbies, and I don't mind waiting a month for a reply. Life happens.
Simply reach out to me and we can chat for a rp idea!
As anyone else, I reserve the right to decline role-playing certain scenarios and characters.
Muses
Muses will be selected based on our plot, and will either consist of OCs or Requested Characters. Do keep in mind if it is a character I'm not familiar with it may take me some time to research them.
It was a bright and sunny day. Birds were chirping, deer frolicked freely, and the sound of armored horses echoed through the forest. It would be absolutely peaceful if these soldiers weren't on a crucial mission.
See the entire royal family, save for 2, were dead. The king, throat slit. The queen? Hanging from the balcony, her own entrails used as a noose. The prince wasn't much better as a broom handle was found shoved down his throat. There weren't even any cousins left, their bodies were found in the stables covered in horse shit.
The only survivors were the princess and former queen. Unfortunately, the princess was bedridden and hadn't moved in weeks. Thus, the former queen, now the current queen, had to retrieve the hidden bastard. She herself had 16 children, all of whom were dead to her or actually dead. The king and his bitch were fools to stop at 2. At least the King had a bastard.
Dionysia was a fair but iron ruler, and her views were both expansive and traditional. She needed her blood on the throne, even if it killed her. Which is why she sent her best soldiers to retrieve her hidden gem.
---
The village would be surprised as these soldiers burst in. Every person would be grabbed and examined roughly. These soldiers were looking for a mark. A mark that Dionysia had carved and tattooed onto the bastard herself. A strange, nearly amorphous symbol to most. Uneven antlers, covered in tentacles and webs.
There were five soldiers, not an inch of skin was seen under their armors.
A bowman, with light armor and fine engravings.
An axe weilding mountain of a woman, with a boar's head adoring her helm.
A mage, wearing heavy armor engraved with runes and profane symbols.
A swordsman, calm and poised. His armor had cats on it.
Finally, a beast of a man. His armor had strange beasts carved on it, and was a mix of metals and bone. He was easily twice the size of the other soldiers, and rode some strange beast into town. He was not rough, and he was soft spoken.
It was raining that fateful day. A dreary kind of weather that matched the current world’s tone. People stayed in their homes, tones were hushed and there was a general atmosphere of uncertainty. At least for most of the villagers, others had a less sentimental approach to the news. Life didn’t stop just because of a couple of blue bloods kicked the bucket.
Dwight sighed as he stayed by the little stand in the market square. It was still crowded today, which was surprising to him. He assumed people would want to stay home because of all of the news. So it was a bit of fight for Dwight to weave through the crowds to reach the market square. All he wanted to do was buy some ingredients for his potions, and yet here he was, stuck in foot traffic.
If Dwight really wanted too, he’d sneak off into the woods to retrieve those ingredients. If he did that, people would get suspicious. They were already suspicious of him for the things he did buy at the square. Dwight wasn’t sure what they’d do if they found out he was brewing potions. Or if they knew he was magically inclined.
To Dwight’s delight and then sudden dismay, the foot traffic stopped and people spread apart like the Red Sea. When Dwight saw what was the cause, a group of soldiers, a feeling of unease washed over him. Then when they started their business, everything became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. ‘What did they say? Blackburn? But that’s…’ the thought crosses his mind.
The villagers nearby looked around at each other, and when they spotted Dwight, all eyes turned to him. They backed away from him as if he was infectious. They whispered to each other as they eyed the young man carefully. What on earth did he do to be scouted by soldiers? Dwight looked at the soldiers in disbelief. He stood there, not moving any inch, waiting to see what was happening.
After a random man pointed Dwight out to the soldiers, they marched towards him. Their postures were relaxed, but they still had their hands on their weapons.The large man spoke to Dwight, his hulking form casting a heavy shadow.
“Blackburn, eh? I can see it.”
He motioned for the others. They all readied their horses except for the mage, who waddled over and nodded. They had a scratchy, hoarse voice. It was strange and gurgly.
“Do you have any strange marks, from birth, youngling?”
The mage would remain still, as would the large man. Neither one seemed angry or violent, but then again the worst never do at first. The mage chuckled and the large man shifted awkwardly.
“I assure you, you're going to be taken either way. I suggest you do so willingly.”
Any attempts of escape were sure to be met with quick restraint. Especially since all five soldiers stared at Dwight.
Dwight backed away as the soldiers started to approach him. He held his hands up in defense and started to shake his head, ‘no’. As he was retreating, he backed into villagers who jumped from him in surprise. That’s when Dwight realized that all the villagers were shrinking away from him. Mothers grabbed their children and clutched them close. Others slinked back into shops, wanting to avoid this whole fiasco. They looked at Dwight as if he’s grown a second head. It was a collective thought, if the soldiers came here for someone, then they must have done something absolutely heinous.
“Y…Yes, I’m a Blackburn, but this is a mistake.” Dwight quickly says, still backing away, his eyes scanning the area for a means of escape. Not that he would get far, he’s sure that if he ran, these soldiers would have him snatched up before he even realized it. “Whatever you want from me, I don’t have.”
When asked about a strange mark, Dwight felt his blood go cold. Even since he could remember, he’s always had such an unusual birth mark on the side of his neck. It was part of the reason why Dwight was rather outcasted by his fellow villagers. No one was born with such a birthmark, unless they were unlucky. And Dwight was unlucky.
“I do have a mark, but it’s nothing!” Dwight insist. When a villager called Dwight out for being a witch, he felt a sense of impending doom.
“No! I’m not a witch, you got it all wrong!” He lies.
The mage cackled when Dwight denied his magical nature and pulled back their cloak.
Their faceplate came next, and revealed a crocodilian face. They were a saurdrogus. A once mighty race of reptilian-like people who were known for their magical properties and dangerous taste for flesh.
“Witches like myself are always seeking new recruits. Perhaps after the Queen is done speaking to you, we can have a little chat?”
The large soldier slung the saurdrogus’ hood back over their head and grunted disapprovingly. A quick look towards the mark was all the soldiers needed to confirm Dwight's identity.
“Will you stop scaring the townsfolk? They are afraid of magic.”
He paused, and extended an armored hand towards Dwight.
“We can stop by your dwelling to pack. I'd really rather not have to drag you to the castle with only one pair of clothes and no supplies.“
He glanced at the fearful townsfolk.
“We can cover our tracks and place a protective rune on your home if you'd like… I've lost many a house to fearful folk.”
He waited patiently while the mage grumbled and put their helmet back together and sat it on their head.
It was a bright and sunny day. Birds were chirping, deer frolicked freely, and the sound of armored horses echoed through the forest. It would be absolutely peaceful if these soldiers weren't on a crucial mission.
See the entire royal family, save for 2, were dead. The king, throat slit. The queen? Hanging from the balcony, her own entrails used as a noose. The prince wasn't much better as a broom handle was found shoved down his throat. There weren't even any cousins left, their bodies were found in the stables covered in horse shit.
The only survivors were the princess and former queen. Unfortunately, the princess was bedridden and hadn't moved in weeks. Thus, the former queen, now the current queen, had to retrieve the hidden bastard. She herself had 16 children, all of whom were dead to her or actually dead. The king and his bitch were fools to stop at 2. At least the King had a bastard.
Dionysia was a fair but iron ruler, and her views were both expansive and traditional. She needed her blood on the throne, even if it killed her. Which is why she sent her best soldiers to retrieve her hidden gem.
---
The village would be surprised as these soldiers burst in. Every person would be grabbed and examined roughly. These soldiers were looking for a mark. A mark that Dionysia had carved and tattooed onto the bastard herself. A strange, nearly amorphous symbol to most. Uneven antlers, covered in tentacles and webs.
There were five soldiers, not an inch of skin was seen under their armors.
A bowman, with light armor and fine engravings.
An axe weilding mountain of a woman, with a boar's head adoring her helm.
A mage, wearing heavy armor engraved with runes and profane symbols.
A swordsman, calm and poised. His armor had cats on it.
Finally, a beast of a man. His armor had strange beasts carved on it, and was a mix of metals and bone. He was easily twice the size of the other soldiers, and rode some strange beast into town. He was not rough, and he was soft spoken.
It was raining that fateful day. A dreary kind of weather that matched the current world’s tone. People stayed in their homes, tones were hushed and there was a general atmosphere of uncertainty. At least for most of the villagers, others had a less sentimental approach to the news. Life didn’t stop just because of a couple of blue bloods kicked the bucket.
Dwight sighed as he stayed by the little stand in the market square. It was still crowded today, which was surprising to him. He assumed people would want to stay home because of all of the news. So it was a bit of fight for Dwight to weave through the crowds to reach the market square. All he wanted to do was buy some ingredients for his potions, and yet here he was, stuck in foot traffic.
If Dwight really wanted too, he’d sneak off into the woods to retrieve those ingredients. If he did that, people would get suspicious. They were already suspicious of him for the things he did buy at the square. Dwight wasn’t sure what they’d do if they found out he was brewing potions. Or if they knew he was magically inclined.
To Dwight’s delight and then sudden dismay, the foot traffic stopped and people spread apart like the Red Sea. When Dwight saw what was the cause, a group of soldiers, a feeling of unease washed over him. Then when they started their business, everything became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. ‘What did they say? Blackburn? But that’s…’ the thought crosses his mind.
The villagers nearby looked around at each other, and when they spotted Dwight, all eyes turned to him. They backed away from him as if he was infectious. They whispered to each other as they eyed the young man carefully. What on earth did he do to be scouted by soldiers? Dwight looked at the soldiers in disbelief. He stood there, not moving any inch, waiting to see what was happening.
After a random man pointed Dwight out to the soldiers, they marched towards him. Their postures were relaxed, but they still had their hands on their weapons.The large man spoke to Dwight, his hulking form casting a heavy shadow.
“Blackburn, eh? I can see it.”
He motioned for the others. They all readied their horses except for the mage, who waddled over and nodded. They had a scratchy, hoarse voice. It was strange and gurgly.
“Do you have any strange marks, from birth, youngling?”
The mage would remain still, as would the large man. Neither one seemed angry or violent, but then again the worst never do at first. The mage chuckled and the large man shifted awkwardly.
“I assure you, you're going to be taken either way. I suggest you do so willingly.”
Any attempts of escape were sure to be met with quick restraint. Especially since all five soldiers stared at Dwight.
It was a bright and sunny day. Birds were chirping, deer frolicked freely, and the sound of armored horses echoed through the forest. It would be absolutely peaceful if these soldiers weren't on a crucial mission.
See the entire royal family, save for 2, were dead. The king, throat slit. The queen? Hanging from the balcony, her own entrails used as a noose. The prince wasn't much better as a broom handle was found shoved down his throat. There weren't even any cousins left, their bodies were found in the stables covered in horse shit.
The only survivors were the princess and former queen. Unfortunately, the princess was bedridden and hadn't moved in weeks. Thus, the former queen, now the current queen, had to retrieve the hidden bastard. She herself had 16 children, all of whom were dead to her or actually dead. The king and his bitch were fools to stop at 2. At least the King had a bastard.
Dionysia was a fair but iron ruler, and her views were both expansive and traditional. She needed her blood on the throne, even if it killed her. Which is why she sent her best soldiers to retrieve her hidden gem.
---
The village would be surprised as these soldiers burst in. Every person would be grabbed and examined roughly. These soldiers were looking for a mark. A mark that Dionysia had carved and tattooed onto the bastard herself. A strange, nearly amorphous symbol to most. Uneven antlers, covered in tentacles and webs.
There were five soldiers, not an inch of skin was seen under their armors.
A bowman, with light armor and fine engravings.
An axe weilding mountain of a woman, with a boar's head adoring her helm.
A mage, wearing heavy armor engraved with runes and profane symbols.
A swordsman, calm and poised. His armor had cats on it.
Finally, a beast of a man. His armor had strange beasts carved on it, and was a mix of metals and bone. He was easily twice the size of the other soldiers, and rode some strange beast into town. He was not rough, and he was soft spoken.
“I’m not scared, what makes you think I’m scared?” Dwight asks this, shaking in his boots and clinging to the other’s arm like his life depended on it.
Dwight is wondering if he should bring up the time he got swallowed by a giant fish. He was out in the magical realm, and near a popular lake that many students from the college visited. It was usually packed but when Dwight arrived it was nearly empty. He didn’t know how to swim but sometimes he went on a little rowboat to relax. If he knew the guardian of the lake woke up from their nap, then maybe he could have avoided getting swallowed by said guardian. Dwight was lucky to get spat out.
“That thing is humongous!” Dwight exclaims now that he gets a good look at it. “Never seen one up close before.”
Humongous? This shark wasn't even the largest Quint had ever dealt with. He chuckled and adjusted his cap.
These city folk were almost always frightened by the ocean… or stupid enough to try and explore it in a tin can. Quint lived in this town most his life, and folks were superstitious about these things at best, or blatantly arrogant at worst. He's earned a reputation fishin and sharkin, and some folks even accused him of using sea magic to obtain such plentiful bounties.
To Quint, there's definitely a magic in the air, but it's more of a fantastical idea than anything.
“Ya think this is big? I've trophies that would make ya shake outta them there shoes.”
A quick, mischievous grin makes it across Quint's face.
“Nothing to be ‘fraid of, see?”
He puts his hand in the shark's mouth. Using his opposite arm, he moves the sharks jaws and hollers.
“Ahh!”
He looks to Dwight, wide eyed and full of concern…. before letting a sly smile stretch across his face. He stands back up, and wiggles his fingers.
“If this porker were alive, ‘d be gone in a second.”
“I’m not scared, what makes you think I’m scared?” Dwight asks this, shaking in his boots and clinging to the other’s arm like his life depended on it.
*the god of death approaches the dwelling of the mobster and knocks on the door, trying to look at professional as possible*
- @thanatos-death-god (thanatos)
The nights had been long, sweaty, and miserable for the mortals dwelling near the old abandoned building. Graffiti and trash littered the grounds, and occasional wild animals built dens in the openings along the decrepit home.
It had passed through few hands since the death of the original owner. One such someone had even tried to open a market, another tried a bookstore. Both left almost as quickly as they sat up shop.
Cas wished someone with some stones would buy the place. It got lonely when the place was abandoned. The occasional stray animal didn't leave much to enjoy. He didn't like possessing them either, too many fleas and diseases. He was too prideful, even in death.
A knock at the door was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps someone was snooping, or buying. He called out, not expecting an answer .
Cas internally grimaced as he heard the figure speak through the door. He felt like they knew there was a dead man in the area… or at least was at some time. Cas doesn't know what happened to his body after that night.
He had been dead a long time, and unfinished business had bound him here eternally… that and the traumatic way he was killed. Suffering alone was his punishment for his many sins.
However, no matter his boredom, he'd rather dwell here in solitude than be carted off to some random hell. The mobster grumbled in annoyance and slunk deeper into the abandoned building. If some demon was here to haul him off to Belzebub.
💀"hey! Don't run- ugh .. now I gotta chase you. Don't make this difficult you can't escape death." *putting his hair back into a bun and following him* "why must you mortals always make it difficult. "
Cas slunk away as fast as he could, and irritability shouted back to Thanatos.
" I'said ta call the city 'all!"
He scrambled through the decrepit building, and went down into his secret basement. It had been boarded up by his old mob… but they abandoned the ideas they had for the place when someone saw Cas in a reflection.
He shuffled around the rotten equipment, and hid in the corner. He'd fight this thing if he had to, but he'd rather have the surprise advantage.
Cas internally hissed. He wasn't going down without a fight, but he also wasn't sure what he could use against the grim reaper. He didn't think the reaper could take a man with unfinished business, so he just stayed hidden and hoped the reaper couldn't enter the house.
He fiddled with a shiv that had seemingly followed him into the afterlife. He'd stab the bastard if he had to. Anything to avoid the inevitable.
His thoughts drifted to religion, and although he wasn't a very religious man, he was desperately thinking of a way to cheat the reaper. Death itself made no deals with the spirits of the dead, he assumed. Cas racked his mind for ways to reach out for something to keep him here.
💀 "GET OUT NOW QUIT BEING A WEAKLING!! COME OUT HERE NOW!!" *slashing at the door some more* "I HAVE NOT THE TIME OR PATIENCE FOR YOU DUMB MORTALS AND YOUR WANTING TO AVOID DEATH!!" "YOU DUMBASSES JUST MAKE MY JOB HARDER!!"
Cas almost snorted with laughter as the clanging upstairs echoed through the abandoned house. He was surprised that the door itself didn't just lump over into the floor. It was rather old.
He started having doubts about the man wandering about his home. Cas could feel there was something dangerous about the man, but couldn't pinpoint if it was dangerous to himself. Cas figured he would have to be smarter.
Thanatos didn't act quite like Cas would expect the reaper to act. The last time such a reaper appeared before him, they said nothing. He simply told them to leave, and they quietly sunk into the shadows. It was so cold... he didn't think they'd leave the next time.
He shook the chills away and let his voice carry sporadically through the house. He didn't want the sound to reveal his location. Cas decided to try sounding regal, well put and not out of his senses.
"Ya not MY reaper, peach. I've seen m' death before. A rotten beast wit' no guts in their belly. I won't go with you to your underworld, you'll never take me!"
It sounded weird to Cas, and it wasn't even a thing he'd ever usually say. It was all he had. Solitude has ruined his social skills. Though, he did feel better snapping at the reaper.
*the god of death approaches the dwelling of the mobster and knocks on the door, trying to look at professional as possible*
- @thanatos-death-god (thanatos)
The nights had been long, sweaty, and miserable for the mortals dwelling near the old abandoned building. Graffiti and trash littered the grounds, and occasional wild animals built dens in the openings along the decrepit home.
It had passed through few hands since the death of the original owner. One such someone had even tried to open a market, another tried a bookstore. Both left almost as quickly as they sat up shop.
Cas wished someone with some stones would buy the place. It got lonely when the place was abandoned. The occasional stray animal didn't leave much to enjoy. He didn't like possessing them either, too many fleas and diseases. He was too prideful, even in death.
A knock at the door was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps someone was snooping, or buying. He called out, not expecting an answer .
Cas internally grimaced as he heard the figure speak through the door. He felt like they knew there was a dead man in the area… or at least was at some time. Cas doesn't know what happened to his body after that night.
He had been dead a long time, and unfinished business had bound him here eternally… that and the traumatic way he was killed. Suffering alone was his punishment for his many sins.
However, no matter his boredom, he'd rather dwell here in solitude than be carted off to some random hell. The mobster grumbled in annoyance and slunk deeper into the abandoned building. If some demon was here to haul him off to Belzebub.
💀"hey! Don't run- ugh .. now I gotta chase you. Don't make this difficult you can't escape death." *putting his hair back into a bun and following him* "why must you mortals always make it difficult. "
Cas slunk away as fast as he could, and irritability shouted back to Thanatos.
" I'said ta call the city 'all!"
He scrambled through the decrepit building, and went down into his secret basement. It had been boarded up by his old mob… but they abandoned the ideas they had for the place when someone saw Cas in a reflection.
He shuffled around the rotten equipment, and hid in the corner. He'd fight this thing if he had to, but he'd rather have the surprise advantage.
Cas internally hissed. He wasn't going down without a fight, but he also wasn't sure what he could use against the grim reaper. He didn't think the reaper could take a man with unfinished business, so he just stayed hidden and hoped the reaper couldn't enter the house.
He fiddled with a shiv that had seemingly followed him into the afterlife. He'd stab the bastard if he had to. Anything to avoid the inevitable.
His thoughts drifted to religion, and although he wasn't a very religious man, he was desperately thinking of a way to cheat the reaper. Death itself made no deals with the spirits of the dead, he assumed. Cas racked his mind for ways to reach out for something to keep him here.
*the god of death approaches the dwelling of the mobster and knocks on the door, trying to look at professional as possible*
- @thanatos-death-god (thanatos)
The nights had been long, sweaty, and miserable for the mortals dwelling near the old abandoned building. Graffiti and trash littered the grounds, and occasional wild animals built dens in the openings along the decrepit home.
It had passed through few hands since the death of the original owner. One such someone had even tried to open a market, another tried a bookstore. Both left almost as quickly as they sat up shop.
Cas wished someone with some stones would buy the place. It got lonely when the place was abandoned. The occasional stray animal didn't leave much to enjoy. He didn't like possessing them either, too many fleas and diseases. He was too prideful, even in death.
A knock at the door was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps someone was snooping, or buying. He called out, not expecting an answer .
Cas internally grimaced as he heard the figure speak through the door. He felt like they knew there was a dead man in the area… or at least was at some time. Cas doesn't know what happened to his body after that night.
He had been dead a long time, and unfinished business had bound him here eternally… that and the traumatic way he was killed. Suffering alone was his punishment for his many sins.
However, no matter his boredom, he'd rather dwell here in solitude than be carted off to some random hell. The mobster grumbled in annoyance and slunk deeper into the abandoned building. If some demon was here to haul him off to Belzebub.
💀"hey! Don't run- ugh .. now I gotta chase you. Don't make this difficult you can't escape death." *putting his hair back into a bun and following him* "why must you mortals always make it difficult. "
Cas slunk away as fast as he could, and irritability shouted back to Thanatos.
" I'said ta call the city 'all!"
He scrambled through the decrepit building, and went down into his secret basement. It had been boarded up by his old mob… but they abandoned the ideas they had for the place when someone saw Cas in a reflection.
He shuffled around the rotten equipment, and hid in the corner. He'd fight this thing if he had to, but he'd rather have the surprise advantage.
Cas internally hissed. He wasn't going down without a fight, but he also wasn't sure what he could use against the grim reaper. He didn't think the reaper could take a man with unfinished business, so he just stayed hidden and hoped the reaper couldn't enter the house.
He fiddled with a shiv that had seemingly followed him into the afterlife. He'd stab the bastard if he had to. Anything to avoid the inevitable.
*the god of death approaches the dwelling of the mobster and knocks on the door, trying to look at professional as possible*
- @thanatos-death-god (thanatos)
The nights had been long, sweaty, and miserable for the mortals dwelling near the old abandoned building. Graffiti and trash littered the grounds, and occasional wild animals built dens in the openings along the decrepit home.
It had passed through few hands since the death of the original owner. One such someone had even tried to open a market, another tried a bookstore. Both left almost as quickly as they sat up shop.
Cas wished someone with some stones would buy the place. It got lonely when the place was abandoned. The occasional stray animal didn't leave much to enjoy. He didn't like possessing them either, too many fleas and diseases. He was too prideful, even in death.
A knock at the door was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps someone was snooping, or buying. He called out, not expecting an answer .
Cas internally grimaced as he heard the figure speak through the door. He felt like they knew there was a dead man in the area… or at least was at some time. Cas doesn't know what happened to his body after that night.
He had been dead a long time, and unfinished business had bound him here eternally… that and the traumatic way he was killed. Suffering alone was his punishment for his many sins.
However, no matter his boredom, he'd rather dwell here in solitude than be carted off to some random hell. The mobster grumbled in annoyance and slunk deeper into the abandoned building. If some demon was here to haul him off to Belzebub.
💀"hey! Don't run- ugh .. now I gotta chase you. Don't make this difficult you can't escape death." *putting his hair back into a bun and following him* "why must you mortals always make it difficult. "
Cas slunk away as fast as he could, and irritability shouted back to Thanatos.
" I'said ta call the city 'all!"
He scrambled through the decrepit building, and went down into his secret basement. It had been boarded up by his old mob… but they abandoned the ideas they had for the place when someone saw Cas in a reflection.
He shuffled around the rotten equipment, and hid in the corner. He'd fight this thing if he had to, but he'd rather have the surprise advantage.
Davie wandered into the great house, the sounds of death and screaming had quietened down here. A path of blood and gunpowder trailed through the house, footprints showing someone was dragging a leg. He gathered his courage and followed the trail.
It was dark outside, and not even the neighbors peeked out their windows as gunshots and screaming echoed through the air. Minor tussels occurred a bit down the street as fighting still raged in his territory.
The house reeked with the smell of recent death, as bodies dropped during the shootout. Not to mention the morbid trophies.
Curled into a corner of the house, Casper D. Jackson clutched his gun. His grip grew weaker by the second, he struggled to keep moving. He had to stay awake.
Wet squeaks came from his shoes as he pushed himself into a sitting position.
Silently he cursed them. Great taste, poor traction.
He hadn't planned on getting dirty today. His clothing was soaked with rain and his own blood. He was determined not to let out when he died. Cas couldn't stand the thought of being buried while covered in shit.
He spit blood and giggled softly as his lungs wheezed in attempts to keep oxygen flowing through his flooded lungs. What a funny thing to worry about when you're dying.
Loud, steady thudding could be heard as Cas' vision faded in and out. He began to laugh, fear no longer prominent as his body began to die. The euphoria of blood loss came with a heavy price. He was next to delusional as his adversary came around the corner. Their gun hit the floor as their arm bled, a beautiful red.
"You sick bastard… sick fucking bastard."
Cas laughed as the man spoke, gurgling building in the back of his throat. His own gun clattered onto the floor as his hand shook too much to hold it. He huffed as his head drooped ever so slightly.
"No, I'm quite fine. Really."
A blood drenched toothy grin met the man standing infront of him.
" 'ow's the wife n' kids, Davey?"
Davey snarled and grabbed Cas by the hair, pulling him off the floor. His eyes searched Casper's for remorse or fear, and he grimaced when he could find none. Davey should have known better. Cas chuckled again.
"I thought it was funny."
Davey dug his fingers into the dying man's wounds, letting his anger fuel his words. The sharp inhale and whimpering did not soothe his soul. Cas was still playing a game. His disregard for human life had once attracted Davey, but no more.
"Ya know what, Casper? I'm gonna make you regret this."
Cas patted Davey's shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes stared deep into his former muse's. Davey was red with rage, and quickly mellowing out to anguish. His were expressive and could be read like a book; Davey could hide nothing.
Cas on the other hand… Not even the pain from his wounds being gouged registered in Cas' eyes. They were glossy, unfocused, but still sharper than a knife.
"Really? I'm dying, babe. This is the end, nothing left to regret. You on the other hand? You're gonna eat those words."
Davey threw Cas to the ground. His eye caught a glint to the right… The staircase.
"Ya know what, Cas? It is funny."
That was new… Cas wasn't expecting such a cold response. The euphoria he had felt was wavering due to the interaction. His focus had been pulled away. A tingle of something crawled up his spine.
Cas frowned as he was dragged towards the staircase. He fought as much as he could, but bloodloss had weakened him. Fear bled deep into his bones as his mouth was stretched over a step.
"Eat this you fucking freak."
Years later…
Quaint, quiet, and usually unpatrolled by local police. Here in one of the few forested areas left in the city sat a slightly rundown house. The blue paint had greatly faded and peeling revealed a sturdy wood. Parts of the porch had been replaced, and the stairs had concrete poured along their posts. Heavy, unkempt hedges and various flower bushes dotted the front yard along with a few abandoned bikes.
The front door was old, and clearly original. An inappropriate knocker rests against the center of the door. A doorbell had been installed, or at least an attempt was made. Exposed wires and scattered screws made a mess of the accenting table. It sat, stained with weather, beside an old wooden porch swing.
Entering the house would be a strange shift. It was clearly owned by someone who was wealthy at one time. Old money sat in the history of this place.
Understandably, the house had some partial renovation in attempts to change the strange layout of the original floorplan.
The front door opened into a small half hallway that immediately led into a kitchen attached to a bathroom. That was to the immediate right. The left side of the house had been blocked off until someone tore down some of the hallway and made a door. That door led into another kitchen looking room, but it had lots of shelves and was marked as an office. It was a bit large to be just an office, though.
The original floorplan had people enter the kitchen, walk past the bathroom, go into what was considered the living room, and then into the office. The office connected to a small hallway that led to another room that had a small linen closet, a strange dipped corner, and the staircase.
Up the stairs there were four rooms. A bathroom, a bedroom, a small office style room full of shelves, and another room that had strange surfaces built in. An example would be the windowsill being some kind of s-shaped seat.
Even the flooring itself had a strange color to it, and it seemed someone tried replacing it or covering it with rugs from the linen closets. It was a hardy wood, and had been taken care of.
The darkest wood in the house was the staircase and its final landing. The color was a deep cherry, and it had a strange path through the foyer and hall. It must've been that mahogany or cherry wood. It was kinda cute the way it led a path from the front door, the kitchen, living room, and finally staircase room. The color getting stronger the closer you came to the stairs.
Honestly, besides the house groaning and the unwelcoming neighborhood, there wouldn't be much to see wrong with the house. The man who sold the territory was a retiring mobster. He said he no longer needed the space, and had picked the family from a historical debt or something along those lines. Either way, it was waiting to be explored.
*the god of death approaches the dwelling of the mobster and knocks on the door, trying to look at professional as possible*
- @thanatos-death-god (thanatos)
The nights had been long, sweaty, and miserable for the mortals dwelling near the old abandoned building. Graffiti and trash littered the grounds, and occasional wild animals built dens in the openings along the decrepit home.
It had passed through few hands since the death of the original owner. One such someone had even tried to open a market, another tried a bookstore. Both left almost as quickly as they sat up shop.
Cas wished someone with some stones would buy the place. It got lonely when the place was abandoned. The occasional stray animal didn't leave much to enjoy. He didn't like possessing them either, too many fleas and diseases. He was too prideful, even in death.
A knock at the door was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps someone was snooping, or buying. He called out, not expecting an answer .
Cas internally grimaced as he heard the figure speak through the door. He felt like they knew there was a dead man in the area… or at least was at some time. Cas doesn't know what happened to his body after that night.
He had been dead a long time, and unfinished business had bound him here eternally… that and the traumatic way he was killed. Suffering alone was his punishment for his many sins.
However, no matter his boredom, he'd rather dwell here in solitude than be carted off to some random hell. The mobster grumbled in annoyance and slunk deeper into the abandoned building. If some demon was here to haul him off to Belzebub.
*the god of death approaches the dwelling of the mobster and knocks on the door, trying to look at professional as possible*
- @thanatos-death-god (thanatos)
The nights had been long, sweaty, and miserable for the mortals dwelling near the old abandoned building. Graffiti and trash littered the grounds, and occasional wild animals built dens in the openings along the decrepit home.
It had passed through few hands since the death of the original owner. One such someone had even tried to open a market, another tried a bookstore. Both left almost as quickly as they sat up shop.
Cas wished someone with some stones would buy the place. It got lonely when the place was abandoned. The occasional stray animal didn't leave much to enjoy. He didn't like possessing them either, too many fleas and diseases. He was too prideful, even in death.
A knock at the door was a pleasant surprise. Perhaps someone was snooping, or buying. He called out, not expecting an answer .
I saw where you followed me, and was wondering if you'd like to talk about an rp thread. I saw where you said you don't like dms much, so I'm sending an ask. If you want, you're more than welcome to dm me if you're comfortable. You can also send an ask :> if my asks ain't open, I may have set up my blog wrong.
I ain't too knowledgeable about Olympus lore, but learning is what makes it fun. I'll listen to any info ya wanna dump.
Sure! I can send u something I got 3 lo blogs but I'll send 1 over to you sure! It's okay you don't need to know much to rp w me as long as you know enough about god and greek mythology I'm patient too if u got questions there's a about page on each blog of mine too if you want to know about the characters ! Yah dms are hard for me mostly but I can send something at least!
