#bloodymabel

[alexandradawe]

little fanart sketch to start the year

[hopeyx22]

chat why do I understand bloody mabel

[kerflooey]

@bloodymabel : ‘i just want you to know that this is really nice’

The night had been … what it had been. A night to be talked about, certainly. And remembered. He knows he should be feeling something. Not to say that he isn’t feeling anything, he just knows that it’s not the right, human, decent thing to feel. A man had died, twice, and the most raucous thought crossing his mind is will my name make it on the papers when they print about this tomorrow?

As the three of them rummage around his apartment, he tells himself that anticipation could be a way to cope with the shock. They’ll get interviewed about it; they have to. Legally and show-business-ly. How far could he stretch that actor-director bond? Ben wouldn’t be around to contradict him.

They could’ve talked on the phone for hours, him being the gentlest mentor of a lost artist striving for his first true raw performance. They could’ve talked the greats together, Ben’s compliments and his placing him, Oliver Putnam, up there with them being so humbling.

Mabel and Charles chatter about the more … haunting implications of the whole thing. Podcasting about it again seems like a given, and for once he's glad not to feel like the sole driving force behind that production. Don’t get him wrong, it’ll be a great addition to what he will have going on … and he’ll have a lot going on. Would a documentary on the play’s continued production, as a means to honor its former star, be way too much?

Charles leaves eventually (old man!), and being left alone with her makes him realize Mabel might not exactly be feeling the right thing, either. Her intense, Nancy Drew persona is one of the many great things about her, but even he can admit she’s immersing herself far too intensely, far too soon. It’d be less worrying if they were already at the point in the investigation where things get juicy, but …

He doesn’t know how to be comforting. He’s usually comforted. The best thing he can do is pick up one of those tiny boxes of apple juice (who knows where it came from, or how long it’d been there) and offer it to her. He takes his sit back next to her, making a little jest out of scooting closer.

‘I just want you to know that this is really nice’

  "Pah, don’t mention it." – it’d been the last thing on his cupboard.  

A silence settles in. She doesn’t fill it, prompting him to sincerely (sincerely!) ask, “are you sure you’re okay, kiddo?”

[guttersniper]

@bloodymabel said: cover up, or you'll get more cold.

the devil is a sissy.

mutt blinks. half with the look as though he already has one foot out the door and down the street, mabel manages to freeze him.

she must've heard him, earlier, saying what he has on is all he's got, and he can't -- not his words -- bundle up. either way, a chagrined warmth heats his ears as he reaches out and takes the proffered coat in one hand.

he doesn't ask her where she got it from, or if he owed her anything, or even if he could keep it -- though all of those rest against his tongue, pulling at the stakes he's chained them to. he carefully slips his arms in, then stretches them across each other, testing to see how well he can move in it, testing the give.

" okay, " he says, finally, " if you want to be back before dark, we ought to go now. "

[pumperknickels]

– @bloodymabel asked, ❝ I can’t think of anything less pleasant. ❞

" It's not so bad, actually, " she counters, brows furrowed but smile wide as she adjusts her backpack strap, beginning to feel a bit of an ache from the weight of the bag. " I mean, I can't, like, use the kitchen or anything but I've gotten really good at sneaking into hotels and b-lining for the toaster oven at the continental breakfast station. If you're confident enough they totally don't even question you. " Another adjustment. The real issue of renting out an airbnb spot in a swanky Manhattan building is the fact she's got a live cat with her at all times, and it wasn't exactly listed as pet-friendly. She takes a breath and shrugs, a movement trying to mask some of the strain her poor arm's starting to feel (perhaps a sign she's gotta start going to the gym). " Hey, you're not –– you won't tell anyone, right? I'm sort of supposed to be saying I'm her niece-in-law or something if anyone asks. "

[perfectionreached]

@bloodymabel

there was a certain type of curiosity that had pushed her to visit lottie's compound in the first place. she had to admit to herself that a part of her that had once put at least some belief into the other woman was still bubbling under her skin. she needed help, pain and simple. it wasn't like she could run from it anymore, not after everything she'd done.

that's what she thought she was getting at the compound, but no... lottie had made everyone choose some type of buzz word to go and do. it felt more like a chore rather than a treatment. this was never going to help anybody, much less her. she looks around, hoping to catch a glimpse of the other woman - but the only other people seemed to be the cult members, or acolytes: all dressed in purple.

"hey - hey!" she calls out, waving towards the woman walking by as she places the brush that she was holding into jacket pockets. "did you have to do this when you started or is this some kind of weird hazing thing that she's doing as payback? feels like a joke."

[gentsleuth-arch]

❝   it seems to me  …   the game’s afoot.  ❞   hold looking into the horizon for five, four, three, two,  one   …   benoit breaks his dramatic pose,  softening the intensity of his features to mind mabel as a crew member  rather than an spectator now.   ❝  did you get that?  i can go again,  but i think that take was perfect.  ❞

@bloodymabel​​    ›    sc. 

[choicescreen]

@bloodymabel

“ i want to introduce oliver to tiktok so bad. theatretok is so big, and he’s such a cute old man. people would eat. it. up. “ each word is punctuated by her pointing her spoon across the table. “ he could even learn the dances. “