[After finally making his way out to the trailer, hes frantically out of breath. He hopes he isnt too late to help, rushing to the door and knocking desperately]
Tobi!!! Babe!?
Veteran Dude is shivering, letting out a jumbled mess of words that are difficult to decipher, sounding like trembling whispers and pitiful, anguished whimpers. Curled up in a fetal position, he bites at the nail of his thumb as a way to soothe himself before shakily standing up, one hand pressed against the wall for support.
"Tobi…" he echoes with a disturbed murmur, his mind frantically trying to discern the meaning of that name, a wave of déjà vu washing over him.
He awkwardly shrugs it off, turning to face the wall before banging his head against it, struggling to process the sensory overload.
[A man sits on a bench alone, firey ginger hair unkempt and wild. His eyes are obscured by sunglasses that barely hide the tired chartreuse eyes and the heavy bags beneath them. The Tuscon teal suit he was once known to wear was gone, a simple pale yellow dress shirt and a pair of gray slacks and black dress shoes doing little to embolden the once powerful man. He looks up, seeing the way the viewer looked him over warily and gave a wry smirk]
You look like you've seen a ghost, kid.... who, me? I'm nobody important. If you wanna call me somethin', I guess Milo'll do.
[He chuckles weakly, the lilt in his voice haggard and remorseful. He runs a hand through his messy hair, trying to give himself some semblance of dignity. He flinches slightly, suddenly feeling an overwhelming pain in his core. A haggard inhale and a growl of inhuman, perverse intrigue sounds from him, his posture sagging more than it should like melting wax.]
Well met, mortal.... you seem to be mistaken. This is no longer the infamous shadow that watched over the back streets of Catharsis- the Don you knew and loved is gone. I have shaped him to my will. His beloved Family has been destroyed. You will know my name when you are deemed worthy....
[Milo shudders and pulls himself back together with great effort, afraid of himself.]
G-go away...
INFO:
This is a Roleplay/ask blog dedicated to my Postal Dudesona, Don PD. He's a bit crazy in the head, but you might manage to roll the dice and win his favor.
MOD IS 18+, CANON-TYPICAL SUBECT MATTER AND MORE WILL BE FOUND IN THIS BLOG. For this reason Minors will not be allowed to interact with this blog. PLEASE KEEP IN MIND that not all asks will be answered as the Peridot Angels AU is still in heavy construction.
RULES:
♤NSFW asks are allowed and will be answered within reason in character
♡Don PD will react in ways that DO NOT REFLECT the Mod's personal beliefs and opinions. I do NOT condone any of the crimes or hate this blog will express and is done solely for the purpose of worldbuilding and character depth. Don't like, don't follow.
◇This blog is strictly for questions directed in-character towards Don PD. If you have questions or comments for Mod, please see
@lavenderhorror-endie72
♧Please try to keep questions and roleplay starters within reason, and most importantly, have fun!!
[Veteran wakes up one morning alone in his bed without Milo spooning him like always, a note laid on his side with a little envelope containing a little bracelet and necklace made from little plastic beads. The bracelet had little letter beads that spelled out P S Y K and T O B I A S on mirrored sides while the necklace was in cyan and pink beads with little yellow glitter bead spacers. The note read
"Went out for a walk. Love you two forever and always, Milo"
That was odd. He never left notes before. Normally he'd just wake the man up and tell whoever was in control where he was going.]
Veteran Dude turns to his side and groggily sits up in bed, sensing that something is very unusual. After wiping away the crusty rheum that accumulated during his heavy slumber, he looks down at the handwritten note and small envelope. He lets out a loud yawn before investigating the envelope, tearing it open and watching as the bracelet and necklace fall onto his blanketed lap. He tosses the torn paper into the overflowing trash, unperturbed if it doesn't accurately land as he's more focused on admiring the simple accessories, which he carefully puts on.
He finally picks up the note and reads it, a wave of concerned, anxious paranoia washing over him as he hopes that Milo is safe and sound. Veteran Dude tosses the blanket off of him and swiftly sits on the edge of the bed before grabbing his cellphone from the bedside nightstand. With the note still clutched in his hand, he turns on his phone and dials Milo's number, hoping he'll pick up.
[Milo was terrified. He was scared and wanting to help. He could hear and even FEEL what was going on with Tobias.... the dizziness, the headaches that wouldn't stop, and now the blinding pain in his arm. He was huddled up in the trailer bedroom, silently sobbing to himself. Eventually he realized he had to call out if he wanted the pain to stop.]
T-Tobiiiii i-it huuurts!!!
Veteran Dude continues cutting into the skin of his arms, going slightly deeper with each precise slice, trapped in a frenzied, repetitive trance. His breathing is oddly relaxed, but he releases a sharp gasp as Milo's shout of agonised terror rings out from the bedroom. The knife slips from his hand and falls into the sink as he finally notices the significant harm he has done to himself, shakily moving his arms to assess the volume of blood that's oozing.
However, he worries about cleaning them later as he rushes to where Milo is resting, sanguine vitality dripping from his fresh wounds and leaving a trail behind. Upon reaching the slightly ajar door and pushing it open further, he stands in the doorway, sensing his darling's painful sorrow.
"B-Baby? What's wrong?" he asks with quivering concern, warm tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, his body feeling somewhat fatigued and lightheaded.
[The Don slowly made his way over to his sweet Babydoll's home, a small package in hand as he was dressed down in a nice looking button down shirt in light blue paired with khaki shorts and hiking sandals. He had a nice sun hat on, glasses perched atop his nose still able to glitter in the obscured sun. He raised a hand and knocked firmly on the door, hoping his sweetheart was home]
Tobi? Ya there honey? Its me!
@peridoteyedangel
The lock of the front door clicks, and a booted foot gently nudges it open, revealing the Don's long-haired treasure dressed in attire that blends elements of biker and cowboy fashion. He gobbles down a half-eaten stick of strawberry latte Pocky dangling from his mouth like a cigarette, while his shades, moth pin, and jeweled belt glint in the warm sunlight. After roughly patting down the wrinkles of his weathered medium blue denim vest with torn sleeves, he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe.
"Howdy, sweet cheeks~" Veteran Dude purrs like a nonchalant fool, flashing a grin of cocksure happiness, but his voice is a bit hoarse from overwhelming adoration.
[A harsh gust of bone-chilling wind surges from behind Veteran Dude. It carries a panicked, woeful scream with it in an all too familiar voice....]
@peridoteyedangel
The emerald gaze of Veteran Dude snaps towards the frigid rush of air before he fully turns his body around with predatory sure-footedness. His slightly famished build is drenched in viscera and a shining blackness, but he's unbothered by his disheveled, unhygienic condition. He reeks of decay, fresh blood, gunpowder, sensual musk, marijuana, burnt cocaine, and the blended aroma of herbal, fruity, and coffee-flavoured alcoholic drinks.
His expression carries an apathetic whimsy with an eerily calm smile stretched across his badly mauled face. However, it quickly shifts to one of anguished shame and bemused hatred as his brain fully registers the sound of the familiar voice…
Hey, honey?... I... I have a surprise for you! W-wanna come have a look?
[Milo called shyly from the bedroom, carefully adjusting the two-piece swimsuit he was wearing over an unhealthily thin body, all ribs visible and his face a little more slight. He thought he looked really pretty now: no longer the disgustingly fat pig he was before.]
Veteran Dude is examining his face in the mirror, his finger lightly tracing the delicate, middle-parted mustache of downy jet black hairs. Before he picks up the shaving cream, he perks up at the question, subtly leans back, and glances at the door.
"Huh? Oh, y-yeah, I'm coming!" he calls out, feeling slightly irritated by the distraction from such a simple task, but he maintains his composure.
His shirtless form enters the bedroom, but instead of the reaction Milo had hoped for, the ginger is met with something concerning. He stands frozen at the door, his face struck with shell-shocked catatonia as his eyes widen with a disheartening terror akin to that of someone gazing upon a starved prisoner.
