#dc comics#dc#batman#bruce wayne#dc fanart#dick grayson#tim drake#batfam#batfamily
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from Colombia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Yemen
seen from Austria
seen from Poland
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from South Korea
seen from Austria
seen from Netherlands
seen from Canada
hes right behind me isnt he
A box carried by a group of rats came to Danny. The box was dropped at his feet and the rats scurried off. The box itself made a few clanks as the rats set it down. The box was wrapped in black paper that had little whiskey bottles on them. The box was tied together with glittery red ribbon that ended in a messy bow. Inside the box lay 4 whiskey bottles, fresh ice (somehow not melted) and two glasses. The was also a bowl filled with a red substance. Inside lay a note that read:
[Hiya Danny Manny, missed me? Yeah you did! I've seen Miss. Archer has been giving you hell. Don't like her much, do ya? Anyway she said you'd like some of my famous blood soup! This one's flavor is.... rather delicious if I do say so myself. It tastes of whiskey, tobacco, and the faintest taste of steak. I'll be around for that drink you promised me. ]
[P.S. say hi to the rats for me! They are quite lovely around these parts! -Dani]
Dani's name was written in curly girly letters and pink glittery ink. A Ghostface was a cat were drawn next to his name
Danny quite literally just woke up. He was looking puffy and ugly. He stares at the box, carrying it inside his cabin. He grunts as he reads the note, rubbing his eyes.
“Hi rats. Nice to see you.”
He mutters to nobody in particular. He stares at the bowl and huffs, heading to get into his Ghostface attire.
“Blood soup. Who even likes that? I swear.”
He mutters as he gets into his attire.
[Open starter for anyone]
Somewhere in the woods there is a low hum of a lullaby. The hum was accompanied by the screech of metal, as if something was being sharpened.
On a rock perched a hulking figure sat sharpening its axe. The hum was feminine almost comforting if it wasn't for who it came from.
The woman on the rock donned a bunny shaped mask. The axe gleamed as the moonlight beamed through the trees in silver streams. The humming gradually got louder before a laugh was bellowed out as if impulsive and uncontrollable.
[Do you approach?]
Someone is walking around Haddonfield, There’s a single bird now whistling a tune in the trees, and the sound of boots in crunchy autumn leaves.
A door opens, creaking rather loudly, followed by the sound of the door creaking again, sounding only just slightly off.
Whoever was here was far too comfortable in Myers domain.
-🐏/
@xxxlostinthefogxxx
(Hope i’m not bothering you:)) )
The Entity caused his senses to be heightened in her realm. He could sense a presence within the replica of Haddenfield. Following the presence, the stalker silently found the presence. It whistled, not a very quiet one is it? It crunched the leaves beneath its feet carelessly. Following at a good pace behind, Myers stalked the individual. The bloody kitchen knife in one hand as he followed until it opened the door attempting silence, though it failed miserably.
Walking up to door the individual just closed, he opened it with ease of a practiced stealth killer, slowly closing in on the prey that was afford to him. He was mere inches away as the kitchen knife raised, poised to strike
The Pets
//A master list of different DBD related rp acc If you wish to be added or removed please let me know//
Killers
Survivors
Extra Pets
//Also just because you’ve been added/tagged doesn’t mean you have to interact with me, my muse, or any other muse. This list is intended to help find other dbd rp accs to interact with.//
Food- decent food, at least- wasn’t the easiest thing to come by in the fog. Not the hardest thing to find either, but still a pleasant surprise when it happened, and happened without too much fuss. The requirements of their flesh were far-gone memories. Only sense memory remained, but… that didn’t stop it from becoming a bit of a hot commodity among those who missed it. Taste and scent were both massive parts of the human experience, after all, and to lose that which engaged them the best? It could become uncomfortable after too long.
It was good sensory input, to eat, regardless of necessity. A wealth of stimulation. Who wouldn’t indulge sometimes?
The food looked fine, smelled great, valerian and honey. Almost a citrus-y taste to it as well, but just faint enough to be pleasant. It was a fun little bonus, that cats sometimes loved the scent of valerian even more than catnip.
Fast forward a bit though, and that citrus taste could be attributed to a different family that tasted somewhat sweet.
Nightshades. Though, this one specifically was Atropa belladonna. Just enough of it to induce the delirium, dizziness, and plenty of other fun effects. Hallucinations, uncoordinated movement, light sensitivity, blurry vision. Combined with valerian- a perfectly edible, innocent plant… which had some of the best natural sleep aid abilities… Nyaniel was rendered just out of it enough to be stalkable, capturable, by a man who didn’t especially want to risk losing his chance. Even if he had to wait quite a while for the worst of the high to pass after dragging him off, he’d happily sacrifice time to get his desired effect. He had all the time he could want, here.
A touch over twenty four hours later, Dwight’s laying on the floor of this structure he found out in the fog, unclaimed, and a little sticky in location. He was able to relocate it by trying the same direction numerous times, and he got some chalk to mark it as well. Gave himself something to tether his mind’s connection to it.
It had worked out great. So much for the Entity playing favorites.
Currently, he’s on his back, legs propped up in the air as he rests them crossed against a table. There’s a book in his hands, and he’s lazily dragging his eyes over the page… until Nyaniel stirs.
Brown eyes meet grey-green. Dwight would have left the mask and robes on, but the nightshade’s full swing symptoms made even the slightest stuffiness unbearable, and there was only so much whining he could tolerate.
“When you can control yourself, the gag will be removed.” His voice is low, blunt, and unamused. There’s a bag on the table his legs are up against.
Nyaniel groaned and tried to roll over. His head felt full of fog like he trying to surface from underwater as something was trying to drag him back down.
The weight of his robes were gone leaving him in his tactical pants and a black t shirt. It felt revealing and he wanted to cover himself back up. A blanket would do- he wasn’t in bed.
Facts started to filter back into his brain. His name. Being a serial killer. The Fog. The basics of his reality.
His eyes opened to see his favorite ‘Survivor’. Honestly, this just proved more to him that Dwight was anything but a Survivor.
He sleepily slow blinked at Dwight as he waited to be ungagged.
<[The sun is rare to find in this part of the fog.]>
<[I might just stay here awhile…]>
//ooc YIPPEE I’ve finally redesigned Daniel crying weeping sobbing
Throwing up could be heard as black sludge was seen from behind a tree ....
@mold-girl
“Hello? Is everything ok?” Rebecca called out as she got closer. She hoped it wasn’t the Plague. While she would try to help the woman if it was her, it was still an unpleasant task to then get infected anyways.
“I’m here to help.”
