streetrunt

|| Indie Mobtale Frisk || Semi-Selective || Para / Novella Style Writing |||| Please read ABOUT and RULES before interacting ||

[streetrunt]

dragonsxng‌:

Below the tree was a glimpse of a tall, adult…human…? No, that wasn’t right. At a brief glance they looked human. But looking more closely, they were very obviously not human… The white horns and tail, and the generous set of feathery wings. They seemed to be very confused. They were staring at a foreign device for the time period, pacing back and forth anxiously.

After some more pacing, they tucked the device away and flopped down onto the ground, leaning up against the tree. Not how they imagined things to be going…

After a few more minutes pass and there’s no further sound of dirt being shoveled, or any suspicious mutterings from grown men, Frannie’s fear finally begins to give way to curiosity and they peer out from the leaves to get a look at the scene below them. It doesn’t take long for them to spot the bundle of feathered wings at the base of their tree, the horns and tail all screaming monster to the child as they watch the figure for a bit longer before deciding to shoot some whispers at the stranger.

“Psst! Pssst!”

“Ey you! You’re not here diggin’ graves, are ya?” Though by all means the answer to that question should have been obvious from the missing shovel, Frannie was nothing if not paranoid. It never hurt to make sure with a grown up! “Kinda strange for someone tah be in Central Park in the middle of the night, after all.”

[streetrunt]

@helliotrxpe​​

Perhaps if Frannie had been wiser, they would have avoided this rundown building like the plague. The abandoned dock house had gone through various owners through its years, from rich whackers to bands of street pickpocketers, and yet it still ended up decrepit and unused. But to Frannie, this had once been their home, before the sleezy mob their group had worked for sold them out to the coppers.

Now, most of their best friends were probably sent off to ‘fixing camps’, or worse, locked up alongside older criminals...

They shouldn’t be here. Not where mobsters and policemen alike would recognize their face, the lone child that escaped their grasp. But when tempted by the idea of revisiting old memories of when they had friends to laugh with, to be guided by, to be protected by... Frannie simply couldn’t resist. The small human enters through the open doorway and into the darkened dock house, coughing a little from the dust they stirred up with their movements before they took in an eerily similar scene that lay around them.

Scattered dirty blankets, newspapers flung about the floors chaotically, empty wooden crates bashed in leaving splinters everywhere... yep, the coppers had definitely ransacked this place. Any personal belongings had most likely been stripped of the building and tossed away, but at least the blankets were still there. Blankets that had served as beds to many children and teenagers, kept them warm through many nights...

Frannie knelt beside a tattered blanket and picked it up gently, running their thumbs over its dusty cloth with a somber look on their face. Maybe they could wash some of these off, use it in their own little den they called home now. Sure it wouldn’t be the same, but having some piece of this place felt important to them.

So absorbed by their thoughts, Frannie didn’t notice the figure which appeared in the doorway they’d just entered through.

[streetrunt]

@dragonsxng​

Was Central Park the best place for a young human to linger in the late hours of the night? Probably not, but having found themself a comfortable perch high up in one of the older trees, Frannie felt a lot safer than they would have been in one of the darkened alleyways of the city. Being small did sometimes have its benefits, surely no scary grown ups or monsters would find them up here!

Or at least, that’s what they had thought. Just as the child started to doze off in the nook of branches they’d found, a sharp sound from below them jolts them awake. A snapping of twigs, the crunching of leaves... was there someone, or something roaming around the man-made forest, just underneath their tree?

Out of habit a swear nearly leaves their lips, before Frannie clasps a hand over their mouth to keep themself silent. People didn’t just go into a more isolated place at night for no reason, not in this city. They weren’t burying a body were they??

If that was what happening, Frannie would be dead if they got caught.

[streetrunt]

Now that we’ve gotten the news out there a bit, who’d like a starter? LIKE or REBLOG for a written starter from Frannie! This will be set in their 1920′s setting, and I’ll likely send you a quick message for plotting purposes ♡

[thestandrewknot]

Pont Alexandre-III, Paris (1920s).

[peashooter85]

Bank employees of the Muncie, Indiana community bank practice pistol shooting in the basement’s pistol range, circa 1920′s.

[streetrunt]

D I V E R G E N T  M O B T A L E  F R I S K ------------------------------------------------- Meet Frannie, a scrappy kid living on the streets of New Home City. With constant wars between the human and monster mobs littering the streets with bodies, how can a street runt not get caught in the blazing gunfire?

LIKE or REBLOG if you’re interested in interacting with an rp novella mobtale frisk blog!

[danismm]

Jewels in the Sky, 1928

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

I am agitated and restless and tired all at once.

Virginia Woolf, from a diary entry written c. January 1925 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[streetrunt]

dimly, through the smoggy city air, one should be able to see the faint magical pressure the hue of a violent shade of purple hovering around the towering, grinning hit man. those wild, mismatched irises lock onto the flinching, terrified child.

                                                                                ( for a while, he says, nor does, nothing; watching them as a feline watches its prey. and enjoying every second they cower before him! )

gore and dust fall around them like a morbid parody of snowfall in later winter. the distant sound of police sirens make him perk up—that unsettling grin widening further. free EXP?

figuring it wasn’t a good idea to let the adopted child of the boss’ wife get taken into custody, he’s stepping into a shortcut and—as quick as a striking viper—scooping fran up into his dirtied arms. the constant trembling running throughout his frame should be more noticeable now with her being so close.

oh? they wanted to know why he killed those people?

a low chuckle fills the night air in response.

                                        * it’s better they were killed by me… instead… right…?

What was wrong with him!? Why was he just standing there like that, staring with those maddened eyes?? The longer this went on, the more distressed the child grew, the tears that had been glistening in their eyes finally falling as they silently pleaded for the kind, calm Serif they knew to come back. Was this a nightmare...?

They wished it was. But the sounds of oncoming police sirens, and the sudden stench of blood in front of them, picking them up, was quick to prove this was no dream. This was real, this was Serif right now. His tremor was hard to feel through the small human’s own shaking body, especially now with them trying to hold back the sobs in their chest.

It wasn’t very successful, not when they heard his cold laugh and response.

“NO! Its not better! None a’ them deserved tah be killed, why are you smilin’ like that?!”

A surprising outburst of emotions came from Frannie when he picked them up, instead of cowering away they hit the monster’s chest with a look of utter betrayal on their face. He was supposed to be better than the others, who wasn’t cold or uncaring like so many grown ups, but then he goes and does something like this? All with a smile on his face??

“Please just- just stop! Stop killin’ and c-come home Serif, please-” Desperation was quick to appear in their tone as they lowered their head and closed their blurry eyes, unable to look at his face anymore. That murderous, sneering terrifying face-

[streetrunt]

//kxnggoat// "Would you like to come home with me?" he asked the child in the cardboard box, sitting down on the street so he was eye level with them

@kxnggoat

“…”

While this was someone they’d come to trust more, a question like that made them instinctively wary. The child’s brow lowered with slight suspicion before they finally responded.

“…Where do ya live, exactly?”

[streetrunt]

Frannie has a deep love for any stray animals they come across, whether they’re friendly towards humans or not. If they find a dog or cat that doesn’t look like it has a home, Frannie is quick to give whatever food they have to the animal or go off and try to find some food for them.

Frannie likely feels some kinship to these animals, which is why they try to help however they can when they find one, there’s even one cat they’ve taken to that’s always roaming around one street in particular. ‘Old Yowler’ is a friendly old stray they feed whenever they see him, and if Frannie’s taken in anywhere, Frannie’s quick to ask their guardian to do the same whenever they pass Old Yowler’s street.

[tallandfacelessman]

Not a Place for Children

[streetrunt]

So the child was alert.`that was good, in a decrepit space like this. however, this also left the issue of addressing them. it would be simple to just put his voice in their head, as the norm. but their heart was already racing. then again, to use his rusty vocal cords would require splitting his lack of face open, goody and jagged to speak.

both options terrifying. instead, perhaps they knew sign language? but then, they most likely wouldn’t be on the streets. rather, they’d have a home that gave such and education. the head dipped, and he didn’t turn around.

they’d only seen his unnatural length so far. the lack of face could be revealed later. but even still... speaking vocally just wasn’t appealing. “It’s alright. i’m not going to hurt you.” hopefully they’d listen to the message, rather then the fact they heard a voice without the use of ears.

Thankfully, the child didn’t seem to realize that the voice had spoken inside their head just yet, since they couldn’t see the man’s face and see that he had no mouth. Despite their ears having heard nothing, in their mind they just assumed he had spoken, though his words did little to really comfort them.

If anything, it made them more worried, as now it was clear he knew they were here, and possibly where they were. What if he was lying-

“Why should I believe ya?” They said back, trying to sound tough even though they were still trying to keep to the dark. No point in hiding if he already was aware of them. “Only creeps go wanderin’ round the city at night, either that r’ scary monsters.”

They didn’t say this without reason, usually it was rather suspicious people who wandered the city at night, its why Frannie tried to find safe hiding holes like this to keep out of sight. Most of the time it worked, but sometimes they’d have a frightful encounter...they were hoping this wouldn’t turn out to be one of those nights.

[streetrunt]

unnerving, deathly silence. something was wrong. something in this timeline was wrong, wrong, wrong. thoughts racing, digits trembling, body twitching, eyes darting this way and that, the skeleton almost doesn’t hear the small, terrified voice calling out to him. a sadistic thrill courses through his soul upon hearing the horror in that child-like tone.

good. they should fear him.

a blood-and-dust soiled hand comes up to righten the hat atop his skull. that grin is still stretched wide—wide across his visage—nearly cracking the facial bones. when he turns ‘round and gets a good look at the brat standing there, something deep within twinges and—for a split second—regret and self-loathing boils within. apparently someone had never wanted the brat to see them like this….

it’s laughable!

the unnamed alter stows the ruined bone attack behind his back, feigning innocence. he makes eye contact with the child, slowly cocking his skull. how much EXP would they give…? if any? he doubts it; they were too much of a runt to be worth anything level changing. heheh.

what a waste…

                  * …                   * … ‘sup, kid?

The small human all but flinched away when his eyes met with theirs, their heart racing in panic at the expression on his face. That-that couldn’t be Serif! Sure he might like fights a bit too much, but he never had a look of just insane glee on him-! Not when he looked at them-

Him hiding his stained bone attack didn’t do much to fool Frannie, their body still tense and ready to bolt if need be. After having seen him fight though, they knew running probably wouldn’t do any good, if he really wanted to kill them.

But...Serif wouldn’t do that, right...?

From the look on their expression, Frannie wasn’t so sure that was true. Which deeply hurt, Serif was supposed to be someone they trusted. Why did he do this...?

“You...you killed them. You killed all of them-” They said finally, with a heart-broken tone. “Why?? They weren’t mobsters r’ police or nothin’, why did you kill em-”

[theirvengeance-moved-deactivate]

@streetrunt ♥’d for a starter /

something had changed during the course of the mission boss asgore had assigned. even though the mission itself was completed—with a twenty percent casualty rate—a certain hit man had yet to report back to the ruthless boss. the band of humans who had ( somehow ) managed to smuggle an illegal cartel of tommy-guns and drugs over city lines had been taken care of. no one would ever find their bodies. not now, not ever.

the bloodshed and violence had caused something to shift and change within the monster leading the small team. he’d been off the prescription prescribed by  capo GASTER for a good couple of months, and a lack in medicine had caused things to spiral out of control; constant switches, miniature wars, and… a general detachment from reality.

perhaps that was how it ended with an OLD FRIEND taking the spotlight. an old friend who had once been ASGORE’s right-hand man. a monster that had been tight between the boss and his wife. a monster feared from city to city because of the raw power, the blood-lust, the LOVE and EXP he wielded like a blade.

gore and ichor, blood and dust lay thick on his clothes, his skull, on the dark hat atop his cranium. in his hands is a single bone attack. just as splattered with the liquids. he isn’t even close to being halfway through massacring the populace of ebott city. even so, that eternally smiling mouth is stretched all the way across the bottom portion of his skull. eyes—normally a calming, warm vibrant white—are now erratically moving, flickering all across the dark city landscape strewn with the bodies of humans and monsters alike; they blazed a bright, unnerving crimson color in both sockets—saving for the right which was lined faintly with cyan.

women and children, men, the elderly… he would slaughter them all and drink their EXP like the nectar of the gods.

and no one would stop him.

[streetrunt]

Frannie had become increasingly stir-crazy and unsettled with each day that passed without Serif returning from his mission. Returning to their old habit of trying to sneak out every night, and even though old lady Toriel had caught on to this routine and stopped them every time, their excuse was always that they wanted to try looking for him. “Somethin’s wrong, he shoulda been back by now Miss Tori, what if he’s hurt??” They’d say to her, as she’d shake her head and carry them back up to bed.

If anyone could handle himself, it was Serif, no matter how much the child might worry. Though, perhaps at this moment, he was handling himself a bit too well...

When reports had come that certain skeleton was on a massacre spree in the streets, Toriel was too distracted by the matters of discussing just what they should do to take notice of the small humans actions. This was a dire situation, a monster as powerful as Serif suddenly going off hinge like this...?

But Frannie hadn’t heard this, as they snuck outside while the grownups were distracted. It wasn’t until the roamed a few blocks away, and noticed how dead quiet the city was. Sure it was late, but there was typically some muddle of sound in the background, someone was always awake in a city. But tonight, there was just an ominous silence.

A few more blocks, and the stench of blood suddenly makes them gag.

“Gugh, wha-? What the hell...” Their statement of shock was quick to fall quiet when passed the brick building and saw the next street over. Decimated corpses, everywhere along the street and sidewalks was coated with blood and piles of dust. The sheer number of bodies had the child reeling back, stunned to silence but also terrified that whatever had done this was nearby. Sure they’d seen mobsters fight to the deaths over turf wars, but this...?

This was just senseless, blind killing.

It took them a moment to notice the figure at the far end of the street, and at first they were about to flee until they realized that silhouette looked familiar. The haunting red eyes made them freeze in place though, having never seen that color before in Serif’s pupils. Why were they red?

“...S-Serif?” They tentatively call out, almost hoping it wasn’t actually him.

[theirvengeance-moved-deactivate]

                                        ebott city; where the divide between HUMANS and MONSTERS will destroy everything.

mobtale au as written by @fxllenmercy / @streetrunt && @theirvengeance

                                               [ listen here. ]

[streetrunt]

- All I want is a moment of Silence -

Done as an art trade with @theirjudgment featuring Mobtale Serif! With a case of schisophrenia this skeleton’s thoughts are often muddled with whispers and voices, so I did my best to portray that feeling in this picture from how it was described!