#ccynophobia

[psyccheout]

*  /  @ccynophobia  started  to  follow  you  !

            ‘  oh  come  on  !  you  can’t  actually  be  serious  about  doing  this  ...  right  ?  ‘

[corrodent]

@ccynophobia​

“ There is no place for honour on the battlefield. Why you waste your time? I don’t. ”  A flat look falls on the hound, flicking down to the twitching body at their feet. The subject was taking its time dying. Subjected to Caustic’s agents and left to drown in its fluids, clawing its throat raw and bloody in a trivial attempt to breathe.

[toxic-trapper-blog]

voidwarned The current mood is squinting at Pathfinder trying...

I mean Bloodhound is literally wearing a gas mask

ccynophobia The current mood is squinting at Pathfinder trying...

He doesnt want to hurt caustic’s feelings so he pretends to be polite

Caustic’s gas doesn’t do anything. The kids just don’t want to hurt an old man’s feelings.

[subjectvoid]

@ccynophobia

His head hurt and his body ached from the extended travel within the upside-down. Adrian had jogged his way across an open field, confused by all the sounds around him and the strange, huge screens depicting 'Legends' in all their glory. Distant gunfire sounded all around him, as did some strange, orange wall that seemed to circle the entire area. He'd managed to hide for a bit, but had been caught up between some sort of skirmish - having taken a glancing wound in his leg. Once hit, he'd fled like a wounded animal, metaphorical tail tucked and heart racing.

Then, everything got very quiet. No more battle, no more announcements of care packages - only a final announcement of the 'game' being put on hold. Adrian snuck, half-crouched and limping, through the water. It turned red around his calf, but it wouldn't kill him, he hoped. The coolness of the stream felt good and obscured his tracks for a little bit. Glancing up at another screen, he caught a flicker of a blurry image of himself - still in his experimental, baby blue and white jumpsuit. He gulped at the sight and hurried along nervously, coming across a steep, grassy hill and hugging the rock face, creeping along. He was confident that he could hide for a bit, needing to check his leg. Settling near a fallen tree, he crouched into the darkness of the bushes and whimpered nearly silently, touching at his bloodied calf.

It stung, he'd never been cut so deeply, so quickly before. Adrian pressed his palm against the wound and stared at the redness that clung to his hand when he pulled it away. Green eyes blinked quickly when he felt tears welling up in them. He was incredibly stressed and worn thing. First, he'd actually managed to escape -- just to end up in some other predicament. He curled into the bush and made himself very small, feeling hopeless and overwhelmed. 

Maybe he’d made a mistake running away from the laboratory.

[stepquieter-blog]

@ccynophobia  liked for a small starter

     Bloodhound traces a finger around the indent of depressed mud. Size 7. Industrial boots. Small, quick steps. Lifeline, if they had to guess. And she’s alone. The mud’s still soft. She passed through within the last hour, at least. Towards the treeline.

     Wraith watches them work with a quiet fascination.

     ❝How can you know all this?❞

    ❝It just looks like mud to me.❞

[godsenthunter-blog]

@ccynophobia

Their vision swam as they let their chin fall against their bloodied chest, a weak chuckle rattling out of them, a defiant wheeze. "Your cruelty shall be judged by the Allfather, even if it costs me my life," Bloth bares their teeth, turning their head away sharply when one of the doctors touches at their face.

"Simply remarkable... you are a rare example of a perfect candidate... strong, even until the end," A smile pulled taught across too-perfect teeth, vacant eyes glinting like empty coins in the bottom of the ocean. "You'll be a wonderful experiment. Your mind just might survive the process with any luck."

"Spare me the prattle," They intone, emotions barely restrained, "Kill me already." If they had not been restrained so, they would've been more patient to their nonsense.

"Kill you?" The scientist leans back, laughing loudly just for show. "This was never about death, hunter. Oh, no... We're going to do something much more interesting than that." A fingertip touches at the side of the hunter's temple, tapping there happily while sweat drips down the expanse of their tired features. "You will be marvelous."

Bloth bared their teeth at them all but said nothing. They would not give their torturers satisfaction. If this was to be their end, then so be it. The Allfather had already seen their outcome a thousand times before. The hunter could only hope that their distraction paid off, ensuring their younger sibling's blissfully unaware escape.

-:-

Years passed. The world moved on. Old technologies were left behind.

There was a rotting military base, overgrown by nature and lost to the sands of time, sitting ominously along the edges of the forest. It hadn't seen a soul inside of it for years. Its only visitors were a handful of crows that nested along the crevices of its aging roof, raising young or squabbling over scraps of meat.

Nestled inside the base were all sorts of overlooked technologies. Weapons and rusted armor, vehicles that didn't run and half-built machines of destruction, all left forgotten. Among the space was a virtual podium, still blinking softly with an orange glow, alive and humming despite the lack of power nearby.

The glow intensified as a brave - or foolish - individual pried open the rusted closed doors. A deathly creak vanished into the silence, for no alarm sounded - only a soothing orange light waved at them from the darkness. A beacon in the ocean of unease.

[lifeche-blog]

❝ I’d wondered why all the birds had suddenly stopped singing. ❞

brooklyn nine-nine starters // accepting!

   “All th’ gunfire, probably.” Lifeline shrugs, examining the contents of a newly opened crate. After swiping a new gun and some ammo, she turns to the other with a grin on her lips. “OR, it’s because they saw YOU comin’.” She teases, swinging the riffle in her hand up so it’s leaning on her shoulder. 

   “-- It is WEIRD though, now y’ mentioned it. Too quiet -- what did y’ do to the poor things??” There’s a teasing tone to her voice at the last words, grin on her face only seeping through the failed attempt at a look of concern. She playfully claps Bloodhound’s shoulder as she slips past, heading towards the other unopened crate. 

[psyccheout]

ccynophobia replied to your post:      i  wanted  to  tell  u  guys  i  finally ...

‘Carrying the weight of his burdens’, bold of you to assume he feels remorse

    im  a  fool  thinking  he  actually  has  feelings