oh to be a worm

[nildejure]

wishlist for interactions etc.:

jekyll.

chemical mixing gone wrong and now he can't use his hands. congratulations you are now? his temporary assistant for investigations & the mortuary : ) hope you like dead people

corpses getting stolen at the mortuary. he wants them back so bad but ... is also a prime suspect

somehow got hooked on collecting cute stuffed animals ( thanks jack ... ) but is doomed to fail due to his crippling social anxiety preventing him from entering stores to check them out/buy them. help

got summoned to court. failing to get there bc public transport is too busy that day for him to get on without freaking out due to all the people. help

the only one around capable of helping a wounded chr. he's begrudgingly up for the task but only if you give your best dead person impression

gwen.

livestreaming in a completely inappropriate location. e.g. someplace a murderer passed through a literal 2 minutes ago. maybe even got em on tape.

trying to make a popular streamer out of someone absolutely NOT suited for streaming. put on the cat ears Now

you messed up and showed her a pic of your messy apt. now you're coming home to her having broken in to .... clean your damn nasty place because she couldn't take it. the image was keeping her awake at night

she's 'just' part of the cleaning crew but she's correctly identifying hazardous substances that may be key to the murder case within seconds, so you decide to take her along as your sidekick for investigations

out at night, hunting ghosts. thinks you are a ghost. you endure getting salt thrown at your face among other things

juniper.

has scammed you several times in a row with questionable items. promises to make it up to you by giving you a rarity ( almost ) free of charge. turns out a supernatural entity lives in it have fun with that

hanging out with a ghost. you get roped into finding out what binds them in this world in order to hopefully find a way to help them pass on

graverobbing 3: join them or stop them?

you asked them for information on sb and they went to investigate but returned injured. you will get your information but fair is fair. do some chores for them on top of the regular payment : / ( in the end it's possible ... that the injury stems from something completely unrelated )

polly.

suddenly in your home. refuses to leave your home. saying increasingly concerning/cursed things. that's it

[nildejure]

can't get the jekyll <- -> hampster parallels out of my head.

naturally fluffy

interested in new things . but also scared of new things

fear of hands

dies faints when too stressed

gets cold easily

heatpads relax him

most likely dehydrated

surprisingly high survivability in spite of everything

[nildejure]

you have to put the hamster in the microwave, jekyll. that's where it belongs.

"W-WAIT." his hold around the plump animal tightens as he takes three steps back to evade the other's demanding fingertips. perhaps it's only then that he understands two pivotal variables in this absurd equation. one: this innocent-looking lawyer may be more ruthless than expected. two: he's never owned a hamster, in his life. ... hopefully. "isn't this already enough?! you can't trust hang-tags these days! what if there's a temperature misprint?! this little guy would—" —meet a slow, melty death for all to watch from the other side of the microwave door. "——!! this is UNETHICAL."

[advictorem]

      ...perhaps he was mistaken, seldom that may be. had confidence not been his forte, he would relent, assuming this man's identity otherwise of no intrigue. still, he entertains the notion of an erroneous supposition with a brief turn of head, giving glance towards the ascended podium overlooking the court, where another had taken seat.

well then — incorrect after all, albeit in title alone. lavender eyes narrow, as if his very glance could part the dark strands obscuring identification.   ❝ but... you are… ❞   his words wilt where they stand, mouth ajar amidst contemplation.   ( who are we, if not our appellations? )    ❝ ...fine, ❞   should it please this peculiar personality, he would speak only of the corpse, the body of the hour.

...at least, until session's end, where jack made haste, hoping to blindside the mortician once more in private, the man's nerves be damned. ❝ ... i did not think i would ever see you behind the stand—the witness stand—jekyll. ❞  

                                                 ﹙ @nildejure ⎯⎯ ✎ ﹚

[nildejure]

and it really is preferable that way. long gone are the times that he'd feel brazen enough to claim the judge's bench. in fact, every other glance at it from down below had only served to make him realize more and more what an inadequate candidate he'd been for the position all this while. perseverance. confidence. authority. fairness encumbers only one side of justitia's scales—the other one is reserved for an innate disposition he doesn't possess. ( what use is a righteous creed if one lacks the ability to inspire others? )

"i'm ... just doing my job. apparently someone found the written report to be 'lacking'—" a shudder preludes an unspoken realization. it couldn't have been him, could it? a scene unfolds before his inner eyes: crinkled report pages stained with critique-laden red ink and a frowning attorney shuffling through them with increasing dismay. "w-well! maybe it was! i thought i was perfectly thorough, but ..." but ... he's been wrong before. so who could really say? "... ... i guess new perspectives also require self-reflection." he dodges the other man's gaze; tries to, anyway, by redirecting his attention to a particularly interesting-looking wooden ornament on the far other side of the hall. "if ... if there's any details you still need, i'll do my best to oblige."

[nildejure]

it's rude to stare, but jack cannot pull his eyes away; instead, they narrow, gears churning to an abrupt stop as his brain attempts recollections of years past. without the usual hesitance or bemusement most tote when advancing upon jekyll, jack simply strides forth, head careened amidst the slightest tilt.   ❝ ... your honor? ❞   he muses with unbridled curiosity, distantly aware the title is no longer applicable, but a twinge of youth still disallows anything else.

perhaps the problem begins with a simple reality: he notices too much. there are many things he'd rather not notice. ... or at least be able to ignore. whispers, gazes, attitudes, alignments, a pace that quickens not far from him, rendered all-too-audible thanks to flawless tiles in an excessive building. he really hadn't wanted to come here. what with the heavy air that's greeted him near instantly upon stepping through the entrance door and now threatens to clog his lungs. or the lingering stares he garners from knowing his way a little too well alone. he couldn't feign being an unconcerned, stray visitor no matter how hard he tries, though. make-believe isn't his forte. ( and neither is small-talk ).

"wh— what?!"

a shudder crawls down his spine. at the proximity. at the forsaken title. a pretext for malevolence or a honest mistake? even back then, it'd taken him days on end to solve this simple mystery. ( people are truly too hazardous to be near ). fingers rise to his coat collar with a nervous twitch; straighten it out just a bit to create the illusion of a hiding space in plain sight. "no ... nonoNOno NO." he pulls his suitcase close to his chest. "i'm just a stand-in. a substitute! and not for that, mind you!" or so he hopes, anyway. that'd be plain cruel. to play a prank on him like that. ( turning on his heels may not be such an ignoble act after all ). "... ugh ... ... ... i̶f̴ ̴n̴o̵ ̷o̴n̷e̶ ̶w̶a̴n̶t̶s̷ ̴t̴o̸ ̴h̵e̵a̸r̶ ̵a̴b̴o̸u̷t̷ ̷d̴e̶a̷d̴ ̴b̴o̵d̷i̶e̶s̷ ̵i̸'̶m̵ ̸l̸e̵a̸v̴i̶n̷g̴ ̸s̷t̸r̸a̸i̵g̷h̵t̷ ̷a̶w̶a̵y̸.̸"

[fooledjustice]

The conviction in that statement… Oh, she's certain of this, isn't she? Great. Fantastic. Wonderful. Fulbright's smile strains as he resists the urge to look behind himself. Too noticeable of an action. Quietly, he speaks up.

"H-hey. I am taking this seriously..." Explaining why could wait, however. Better yet, a civilian shouldn't know! If there's even the slimmest of chances he's being watched by anyone related to that spy's group, he cannot let some unrelated passerby end up on their radar. What an unjust turn of events that would be!

...She grabbed his sleeve. Fulbright bites the inside of his cheek, pondering. Leaving is the wise choice, but… hmm. How to make this seem natural to an observer...

Suddenly perking up, he flashes one of his signature bright grins. Here's hoping it's become obvious enough to this stranger that he's putting on a show for this supposed stalker. Upon speaking again, he raises his voice to its usual booming volume.

"Oh! Why of course I can help! Just lead the way, miss!"

Permission granted to drag him along somewhere, it appears.

[nildejure]

there's a brief pause during which the cogs in her brain set into motion, one by one. she's no stranger to impromptu acts in the middle of the street. they're a common strategy, after all; offer aid through subtle means and always leave room for a polite 'i'm fine' somewhere between the lines should help be unnecessary. granted, it's usually women around her own age who resort to playful familiarity—but who's to say a middle aged uncle couldn't be part of the ploy? "—really?" she chimes, tilts her head, and latches onto the poor man's sleeve with her other hand, too. "you're a lifesaver!" and then, she PULLS, with a force that doesn't quite befit her build ( turns out that waste disposal is an apt gym substitute ). "it's right around here. hurry up before, uh— before ..." lying, on the other hand, has never been her forte. "... ... before they do the thing!"

rest assured such poor histrionics aren't displayed to the public eye for long. she cuts through the crowd, 'uncle' in tow, and passes through the next best discreetly adorned door. "we'd like a table for two, please," or so she says then, unperturbed by the entrance's echoing bells and the oddly dressed waitress. what a stroke of luck it is that one of her favorite occult-themed cafés had been nearby for the occasion. "a light haunting will do today."

[sinsolucion]

      call him experienced in the study of peculiar personalities.   ❝ i'm not that close, ❞   he whines, presented palms portraying the purity of a white flag while bemused lips form a crinkly half - smile   ( at least, that was the most feasible description ).   ❝ they sent me to ask if your results were ready yet! ❞   the desire for solitude was mutual, believe him — the only reason the broom wasn't present was strictly thanks to prior experience.

[nildejure]

"hha— ha HA!" hitched breath cracks through barely controlled syllables. any more surprises and he might flatline, he's sure of it. ( ... or hurl ). "mr. serrano, you're one wicked man. made sure my trusty security staff (broom) is out of sight before making your move?" this is why cops are the most troublesome visitors of them all. ever-perceptive. always prepared. "suppose you also knew that even i wouldn't stoop low enough to misuse a dead man's leg?! very well—!" he circles back 'round; takes five steps back. then four more for good measure until his shoulder blades hit the wall beside a note-filled whiteboard with an uncomfortable, dull thud. soon after, one shaky hand extends to give the sleek surface some attention-drawing slaps. "the results are about halfway done! if you're in a hurry about any specifics, i can get them for you right now!"

[nildejure]

@fooledjustice continued from here.

"... ... oh." palm meets forehead as he squeezes his temples; cold sweat on his fingers dissipating somewhere between brows and rogue strands of hair. "you're here for anthony," or so says the voice beneath the furniture before its owner's face rises up to the edge of the table, cautious eyes peeking at the unknown man by the door.

"... i'm sorry. i usually leave reports in the cabinet by the entrance desk. if you're with LAPD feel free to just scour through them. the most recent one is always up front." this isn't the usual guy, is it? nearly gave him a damn heart-attack. "if you want to double-check some details go ahead. he's all yours." not like anthony would protest at this point. the body lays lifelessly on the autopsy table, drained of color and all capacity to resist. a very relatable man. "uh, but ... make sure to wear gloves. and, if possible, keep incisions to a minimum. he's got some fluid built up."

[nildejure]

gwen vc: dear diary. today i adopted a strange uncle that i met on the streets. i don't really know how to take care of these but ! as with all things in life, you grow with your challenges

[nildejure]

@fooledjustice continued from here.

slow blinks are the only thing interrupting her unwavering gaze. little, polite intermissions. as if to give the man some room to breathe before deep blue eyes continue gouging deeper and deeper into his soul. "umm ... mister, this is no laughing matter," she finally says with a measure of cautious curiosity. perhaps her phrasing had been misleading. he should be a little alarmed, at the very least. ( ... it's a bit awkward to correct this mistake now, though ). "you're clearly being followed!" such is the problem with men, isn't it? heads in the clouds. no sense for danger. are they thinking being tall as fuck equals being above it all? insane. she stifles a huff, then reaches for his sleeve. "come with me. i'll get you out of trouble."

[nildejure]

🌟 What’s something small they did as a child that hinted at who they’d become?

even if, like most children, gwen has always hated having to clean her living spaces when she was younger, she's simultaneously had an abnormal interest in how different stains in fabric and on surfaces behaved in varying manner when faced with cleaning utensils. cue her single mom's moments of joy and despair whenever her kid decided to make stain removal her personal mission which sometimes ended with success, sometimes with gigantic bleach spots on beloved clothing pieces. eventually, though, gwen became more knowledgeable and skilled at the art of stain removal which effectively rendered her a teen with an unusual love for doing the laundry to most eyes.

little did people know that, at this point, simple household stains could no longer sate her interest. remnants of roadkills, suspicious dumpster liquids, supposed ghost secretions at haunted sites ... anything goes in the eyes of science. and don't even worry about her school essay on biological hazards in everyday life ( that may or may not have included an experiment log ).

[nildejure]

🩸 What’s the worst injury they’ve ever had & the story behind it?

there have been a couple incidents but one of the worst physical injuries probably connects to his discolored/scarred fingers that fell victim to a mishap with chemicals more than once. jekyll is generally an extremely thorough person who values safety and procedure standards above all else—but when trapped in a wave of anxiety ( which unfortunately is a recurrent situation ) he becomes increasingly sloppy in regards to his own well-being. rest assured he still gets work done, but safety will gradually remove itself from his mind until he's distracted enough to e.g. clean surfaces with corrosive solutions with his bare hands or juggle tools the wrong way around. at the very least, though, emergency services are #1 in his phone's directory and he's reasonable enough to call for them should he be unable to deal with thoughtless injuries himself.

... and on another bright side, he's now well-versed in basic treatment plans for most types of injuries! he may be afraid of getting close to you and actually help you but! in theory, he knows how you may be helped! :)

[nildejure]

ur trusty local crime scene cleaner

[nildejure]

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” for gwen :3c

"this is a stigmatized property, you know," she mumbles into the stand-up collar of her trusty hazmat coat, apparent nonchalance disproportional to the excitement that burns in her veins. guess what? a late-night database check had informed her that this particular location might as well be considered a ghostly nightclub given the amount of tragic deaths it's accumulated up to this day. ( what a shame that live-streaming supernatural activity amidst residual blood and vandalized furniture isn't socially acceptable while on the clock ). "... ... umm," deep blue eyes meet bright counterparts, "mr. detective, you look like you can handle yourself. i'll be in the other room for a moment and check for plasma before it all gets nuked with hydrogen peroxide."

[raesource]

headcanon questions

if you are sending to a multi-muse, remember to specify the muse that the questions are being sent for . feel free to edit these as you see fit .

🌟 What’s something small they did as a child that hinted at who they’d become?

❤️ Who is the one person they’d drop everything for, no questions asked?

💔 What’s the one wound (physical / emotional) they’ll never fully recover from?

🗡️ What’s their “I’ve killed for less” trigger?

☀️ What’s their happiest childhood memory?

🌧️ What kind of weather matches their soul?

🍽️ What meal do they cook when they need to feel like themselves again?

🎶 What song instantly makes them emotional & why?

🌙 Do they sleep peacefully / fight nightmares every night?

🔒 What’s a secret they’ll take to their grave?

🪞 What do they secretly hate about their own appearance?

💪 What random skill are they weirdly proud of?

👶 Baby picture of them - what’s the most embarrassing thing about it?

🏠 Describe their home when no one’s watching—messy, spotless, chaotic cozy?

😭 What always makes them cry, even if they hate admitting it?

😂 What’s the dumbest thing they’ve ever laughed at for way too long?

🧸 Do they still have a childhood comfort object? Where is it now?

✏️ What nickname do they secretly love being called?

⚔️ How do they act when they’re furious but have to stay polite?

🩸 What’s the worst injury they’ve ever had & the story behind it?

🕊️ What would instantly calm them down in a panic attack?

🔥 What’s something they’d burn the world down to protect?

🌹 What scent reminds them of the person they loved/love most?

🪥 What’s their most oddly specific daily routine?

💔 What’s the one apology they’re still waiting for that’ll never come?

🃏 Are they the type to forgive / hold a grudge until the end of the universe?

🌌 What’s their biggest “what if” that keeps them up at night?

🦋 What was their “I’m not a kid anymore” moment?

🎭 Do they wear a mask in public? What’s the real them like underneath?

🧳 If they had to leave home forever with only one bag, what do they pack?

🌑 What’s the darkest thought they’ve ever had about themselves?

☕ What’s their comfort drink?

🖤 What’s a “villain” trait they actually possess?

🤝 Who is the one person they never want to disappoint?

🎁 What gift would utterly destroy them (in a good / bad way)?

🩹 How do they react when someone they love is hurt?

🌅 Are they a sunrise / sunset person - what do they think about while looking at their favorite?

🧣 What texture/clothing item makes them feel safe?

🦉 What piece of advice do they give everyone but never follow themselves?

🔪 What’s the most violent thing they’ve ever done for love / survival?

🦋 What seemingly insignificant memory do they cherish the most?

🌹 What is their love language & how badly do they need it right now?

🪨 What’s the hardest choice they’ve ever made?

🧋 What food/drink do they hate that everyone else loves?

🕰️ If they could relive one day of their life, which would it be?

👑 In their own story, are they the hero / villain / someone else entirely?

🌡️ What temperature do they keep their home at & why?

🧸 What would their younger self think of them now?

💌 What’s the letter / text they’ll never send?

⚰️ What do they want written on their gravestone / what do they want people to remember them for?

[rpclefairy]

first meeting sentence starters.

send one to have our muses meet for the first time.

“Sorry, were you just talking to me?”

“I think you dropped this.”

“You look lost. Need some help?”

“I don’t usually talk to strangers, but…”

“You’re sitting in my spot.”

“Whoa! Careful!”

“We’ve never met, right? You seem familiar.”

“Is that seat taken?”

“Sorry, I think I just spilled something on you.”

“You’re blocking the doorway.”

“Were you just staring at me?”

“Excuse me, do you know the time?”

“Wait — are you the person I’m supposed to meet?”

“I’ve been sent to find you.”

“Please don’t be alarmed, but I think we have the same bag.”

“Do you work here?”

“I’m fairly certain that’s mine.”

“You’ve got something on your face.”

“Sorry, I thought you were someone else.”

“Do you know the way to ___?”

“You’re hurt. Do you need help?”

“That’s a fine ___ (cloak/hat/book/etc.). Where did you get it?”

“This might sound strange, but can I hide behind you for a moment?”

“You look like you could use a friend.”

“I think your dog just stole my lunch.”

“Hey, you dropped your coin purse.”

“I think we’re stuck in here together.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear, but…”

“Are you the new neighbor?”

“First time in town?”

“I’m not sure if this belongs to you, but…”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

“Do you mind if I join you?”

“I think you’re in the wrong place.”

“You seem… out of place.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but are you following me?”

“That was a close call.”

“Not to alarm you, but someone’s watching you.”

“Mind if I walk with you?”

“You look like you’re in trouble.”

“Was that your doing back there?”

“You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“That was impressive. How’d you manage it?”

“I’m guessing you’re not here by accident.”

“Do I want to know what just happened?”

“You might want to keep your voice down.”

“Is it always this strange around here?”

“I have a feeling we’re about to become acquainted whether we like it or not.”

“Looks like we’re in this together now.”

[nildejure]

"—WUh. DO you mind?!" the lack of sense some individuals have for PERSONAL SPACE is as astonishing as it is worrisome. he circles around the metallic-gleaming autopsy table that carries his latest corpse with the care of a time-warped paleontologist attempting to keep raptors at bay. "back! bAck!" god, there must be a broom somewhere around here.