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This blog will be inactive as of 9:00pm EST.

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Reminder that tomorrow is the last day to snag my contact info!

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Alright, so hmu in dms by Sunday for establishing contact. This blog’s activity will cease on that day.

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So I’m not excited to make this post but I’m seriously considering switching to Disco only RP. I love writing here, I love the style of it, and I love all of you.

There’s been something going on with an individual that I do not write with here that I don’t feel comfortable addressing with them directly as said person makes me uncomfortable. It’s made me feel really anxious and has made me not want to be here. I’ve tried blocking this person but they’ve made or remade blogs and have proceeded to follow on the new blogs. I don’t know what to do here and it might just be better for me to make the switch. I will let you all know in the coming days.

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kxllerblond‌:

“I mean…isn’t that the most logical scenario to assume to be the case?” he still wasn’t sure what this man was or just what his role in it all could be but he was at least comfortable with the proposed concept.

“I hate to ruin your whole…dramatic reveal about the workings of the afterlife but–yeah. I mean I wouldn’t doubt it’s like that. Makes the most sense.” he shook his head. “I’m not interested in all of that.” especially when his particular shade of afterlife was already predetermined. “I just want to know where you fit into it all.”

That got a laugh out of Damon, “Well, I’m glad it’s not a dramatic realization for someone. Imagine telling an agnostic individual that they have a plethora of afterlives they could choose from.”

“I come in in the space between death and the afterlife, like the rest of my kind.” He explained, “A large number of my kind work in graveyards, bringing souls from bodies just laid to rest to their afterlife. Others of us wander and take more pressing cases in hand prior to that. I’m the latter. For example if a particularly...soiled...soul that would cause havoc if it was not escorted to the afterlife immediately were to pop up, it would be my duty to take care of it. Or...in tonight’s case, for one who has suffered too long.” Unfortunately they hadn’t been far from Damon’s destination, the soft glow of the lights from the children’s hospital looming. “What is it they would say...It’s like a fast-pass.”

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kxllerblond‌:

   “Better to attack their wallets than do them physical harm, hm? Or are you even one that bothers with debating morals?” half demon or not, he himself didn’t make it a frequent habit of murdering people for the sheer hell of it.

He followed along with the man, had offered his arm out despite knowing that it likely wasn’t necessary. “Work usually tends to be unpleasant.” though this did stir his curiosity. 

It was squashed however at the mention of death. It was a relatively sore subject with Clark considering he’d already done so once. “As in the actual aftermath or what ferries you over?” he asked. “Because I really only vaguely remember one and don’t remember the other at all.”

“Ah, alas it’s not in my nature to get violent with humans without great cause. I wouldn’t have been able to live among them so long if I incited violence each time a human slighted me.” Though the same couldn’t be said for some of the other members of his kind...

“It does but this moreso than most evenings.” He thought for a moment, “What if I told you that every religion was correct? That each afterlife was a possibility for believers of that afterlife to achieve depending on their faith and their actions?”

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huntershowl‌:

after a test of its weight, cocking it, and pointing it at the floor, hellhound’s brows furrow a bit in dissatisfaction. ❛ like i would pay shit for this. i mean, it’s alright, but it’s nothing compared to that rifle you made a while back, short stack. fine – what do you want notes on? ❜

“If you break it you sure as fuck will. Been working on shit for weeks and now it’s time for me to refine it.” He snickered. It was so rough, it would truly be a horrible thing to get charged for. “I want your opinion on the recoil of a few rifles. The deal is you get to shoot some guns and in return I get notes to refine my model. Deal?”

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kxllerblond‌:

   “I gutted them and feasted on their entrails.” he announced dramatically. A click of his tongue after a short pause. “No, just a very sternly written email and a boycott on further investments in his company for the rest of the fiscal year.” he looked for the offered arm, followed it back up to look over them man himself. “You’re plenty old. I’m sure you’d do just fine yourself in not running into anything.” 

But, that’d be a terribly rude thing to do and what would his mother think? “Headed anywhere in particular for your…job? Or shall I just start walking?”

“A pity that that’s the modern equivalent. Hopefully they feel the gnawing of your boycott in their bank accounts, then.” As much as he used the excuse of being blind for a reason for Clark to accompany him, the other was very much correct. He swiftly turned them in the direction he needed to go.

“Ah, yes we are going somewhere particular for my work. I plan to take the long route though as tonight is unfortunately going to be unpleasant. Now, let me start with a question; what do you believe comes for you after you die?”

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kxllerblond‌:

“Oh, I can tell you have.” he returned smoothly. “Most people from nowadays jump through hoops to lie about their age. They hardly flaunt seniority.” he glanced about and sighed. “No, no. I’m not stood up often. Or, at least, it never happens a second time.” he made sure of that. 

“Just out and about for the pleasure of it.” a nice walk was a bit of a treat for someone that usually just blinked to wherever it is they wanted to be. “And you? Off to…well, what is it you do concerning death?”

“There’s no shame in age.” Damon chuckled, “I pity the one who stood you up last time then. And what fate did you place upon them, hm?”

“Unfortunately I don’t have the same luxury of being out on pleasure rather than business. Though I would very much like to put off my duties for some time.” The black dog offered out his arm to the cambion, “You wouldn’t let a blind man run into anything, would you? In return I’ll tell you about what I do.”

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@huntershowl​

“If you break it, you buy it, mon cher.” He gestured to the very...rudimentary looking gun she held. A patchwork of parts he was refining into something of his own making. A mock up sketch for the final model sat in front of him.

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kxllerblond‌:

“—Yes, well…” he shrugged. There was no attempt at trying to feign innocence, but no confirmation of guilt either. “Poor sleep schedule coupled with having most of my business take place in the evening will tend to encourage that penchant.”

A tilted of his head as he sized the other up. “Seems like a terrible case of the kettle calling the pot black though, hm?”

“Ah, unfortunately for me death keeps no schedule. And I have been on the night shift for likely longer than you have existed.” 

There was a small smile on his lips, “I suppose you’ve either just come out or have been stood up again.”

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@kxllerblond​

“You have quite the penchant for showing up when darkness falls, don’t you?”

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I’d be down for some short things if anyone was interested

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Isaiah is a new character in Damon’s lore.

Like Damon, Isaiah is a black dog and therefore follows the same origin lore. However, he died in Louisiana shortly after the establishment of New Orleans. Because of the nature of the earth in the area and the lack of realization of what this meant for burying the dead meant that his body…didn’t stay buried. Where it came to rest was at the bottom of a swamp where a dog had recently drowned and because other bodies soon followed his path he became a black dog.

Isaiah is 50ish years older than Damon. Unlike Damon he does remember his previous life and knows how old he is. 

Isaiah’s status as a black dog is strange, though. He has not actively brought a soul across the border of life and death in an incredibly long time. Technically, he should have been forced to retire and move on to an afterlife of his choosing. However, he has managed to stick around on a technicality; he does bring the dead to rest. Just as a hearse driver and grave digger, not in his actual capacity to do so.

He’ll sometimes fly out to Cali to meet with Damon as they are friendly

Louis has also met him and does not like him but Lou is biased against individuals from NOLA because of their ‘disgusting bastardization of the French language’.

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Further:

Louis met Isaiah because Isaiah has uhhhh helped Adam hide bodies on occasion. He never asks questions but does give sass if he feels that it’s getting out of hand.

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Isaiah is a new character in Damon’s lore.

Like Damon, Isaiah is a black dog and therefore follows the same origin lore. However, he died in Louisiana shortly after the establishment of New Orleans. Because of the nature of the earth in the area and the lack of realization of what this meant for burying the dead meant that his body...didn’t stay buried. Where it came to rest was at the bottom of a swamp where a dog had recently drowned and because other bodies soon followed his path he became a black dog.

Isaiah is 50ish years older than Damon. Unlike Damon he does remember his previous life and knows how old he is. 

Isaiah’s status as a black dog is strange, though. He has not actively brought a soul across the border of life and death in an incredibly long time. Technically, he should have been forced to retire and move on to an afterlife of his choosing. However, he has managed to stick around on a technicality; he does bring the dead to rest. Just as a hearse driver and grave digger, not in his actual capacity to do so.

He’ll sometimes fly out to Cali to meet with Damon as they are friendly

Louis has also met him and does not like him but Lou is biased against individuals from NOLA because of their ‘disgusting bastardization of the French language’.

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huntershowl‌:

it takes some time for hellhound to properly inspect the gun; its accuracy is about right, it’s got a good weight, but you never know. she’s … picky, to say the least. it takes a long time for her to get comfortable with a rifle, and by then it becomes a near-inseparable part of her, so it’s important that it’s well-made in the first place.  there’s no question that this weapon is high quality, though. even looking for something to nitpick reveals no genuine flaws. his comments are met by a wary look. what’s your aim? what do you want? he seems incredibly nonthreatening, but then, maybe the height is misleading. no one is to be trusted, not really. everyone’s out for their own shit. not that hellhound blames them – she’s out for her own shit, too. ❛ … long time. and, yeah, no argument here. i exist because of the dumbasses with shotguns who forget their place. which is in the ground. ❜ satisfied, she slings the gun over her shoulders and takes a cigarette out of a case in her coat’s pocket.  … shit. lighter’s gone. probably dropped when she staggered up from the floor after getting shot in the fucking back. hellhound’s loathe to ask, but she does anyway. ❛ got a light? ❜

“Dumbasses with shotguns breed women with rifles.” Louis chuckled to himself at the thought, “And men with no business in arms taking up dealing.”

And it was true. If there hadn’t been a demand for his trade along with his desperation to not return home, he would never have been what he was. The man never dwelled on how out of place he was in this world nor what he could have been outside of it, though. 

The question has mismatched eyes rolling. The woman didn’t seem the type to ask stupid questions, in his mind, yet here they were.

“Do I have a light.” He parroted. Taking out his lighter and flicking it on and off, he looked her dead in the eye, “No, I lit this fucking joint with my mind and it’s a single use only ability. Jesus fuck.”

[ssweeneys]