#absolutecatastrophy

[holynightmayor]

Consciousness and control. Be fully aware of your surroundings at all times and be keen to each and every of your senses as you drift off to sleep. Just a few things Carol has been working to be mindful of all week. ‘Fuaha! Wow mom this is the most sleep you’ve gotten in years.” Noelle had chimed just this morning. Innocently. Little did she know that this was all business. Rest is always arbitrary.

There have been residents of Hometown complaining about the same haunt that wakes them within their own dreams. Observing them like lab rats. Disturbing them. Something that, while at first seems like the birth of some dismissible folklore, became a phenomenon that Hometown’s Mayor was determined to get to the bottom of.

Hence, she has taken up the art of Lucid dreaming. If this thing lurked in the world of dreams, then obviously the best course of action would be to go right to the source.

She has her suspicions, you see…

…that this entity might be connected to the Dark World in some bizarre, inexplicable way.

With her eyes closed, darkness began to warp into something…even darker. It expanded. Distorted. Became suffocating and disorienting. This couldn’t be anything other than The Depths.

In a gamble, she ventures to speak. "If anyone-or anything-is here...show yourself." Her voice doesn't sound like it belongs to her. Not here.

@absolutecatastrophy

[indulgentnine]

@absolutecatastrophy liked for a starter! (For Nova)

Just having exited her favorite coffee shop, Velvette gave pause on her way down the street. The usual onlookers cast attention her way and even the occasional phone raised to take pictures or record. Yet, that was not what she took notice of, while something else had caught her attention.

Though quite the powerful Overlord, Velvette had made a lot of her own cut of the city from her fashion and control of her fans. That meant seeing potential even if it meant taking advantage of it. Right now, she was looking over at a rather street-worn-looking Hellhound, and she could not help but see a little more under the dirt. Or maybe just someone to torture for fun, and make a viral reel out of it.

Still, her face was somewhere between judgmental distaste and intrigue. "Hm, what do we have here?" She proclaims, making her way towards this unfortunate hellborn.

[holynightmayor]

This. This right here feels like home.

For a creature born of cold, it's strange for Carol to crave warmth so desperately. Yet. The fire blooming in her chest washes through her in slow, merciless waves, melting away every trace of her glacial nature. It leaves her entirely untethered-forgetting what she is, where she is, and hell, even who she is. It's like being raging drunk. Her thoughts tumbling over themselves to the point where she NEEDS to focus on one thing unless her mind somersaults off into oblivion. That thing right now being Toriel. Toriel. Toriel. Toriel.

The gentle rake of those plump fingers through her hair incites a glorious throb unto her womanhood. Even Lanternlight-a name Toriel has never call her a day in her life-sounds like something cherished when spoken in that voice, as familiar and beloved as an old favorite song.

Carol nuzzles her snout deep into the softness of her chest, hands roaming with abandon over the massive curves of her thighs. She scarcely has time to lose herself in the sensation before a claw hooks beneath her chin and lifts her gaze upwards.

Glazed, ice-blue eyes meet warm, dark ones. A greedy, trembling chuckle escapes her.

“Enough to get lost in you entirely, dearest. We're not quite there yet.”

@absolutecatastrophy cont

[moxxietude]

Imp City, midnight. A loud ruckus could be heard outside of Millie and Moxxie's home, most likely a raccoon digging through the nearby dumpster.

This damn raccoon. It's been tormenting them for almost a week now, always making noise and digging through their trash, always leaving a mess behind.

A true menace, if there ever was one.

( @absolutecatastrophy )

Toting the latest back of garbage outside, Moxxie sang a song from the musical that was playing inside the house. He was a tenor, almost a male alto, and his voice carried through the backyard and to the garbage can where he would dump off the latest bag of trash. His song, however, was cut short when he heard the noises he had been waiting for.

He froze in place, setting the bag down and ducked down lower, taking the stance of stealth. Now in hunting mode. If it was the same racoon that had been stealing from their trash all week, he could at least scare it away. He wouldn't want to actually hurt an animal that was just trying to feed itself. But he wasn't opposed to scaring the shit out of it.

The backyard was reticent again, and the new bag of trash never reached the trash can. Now Moxxie slowly began to approach the trash can, expecting to see a small, dirty animal.