#killerpigfarmer

[weaponsdonotweep]

@killerpigfarmer continued from HERE

“You and I both know that there’s a lot of things I am, but U G L Y is not one of them.”

[crossroadcaesar-blog]

❣- A memory that leaves them laughing (for the demon)

◆ ——   Peer into my muse’s memories meme :: accepting

@misshoodoolady

Marcella’s smile is, as always, picture perfect.  The crossroads demon peers up through dark lashes at her latest client, licking swollen lips and flexing a fingertip inconspicuously at her side to signal Lucius into position.  He’s a man of the cloth–respected, revered, in line for the Papacy, even–but neither his blood red robes nor his pious soul are enough to save him from Hell’s most prolific procurement officer.  She reaches out to grasp the gemstone encrusted crucifix hanging around his neck, pulling him closer as she rolls up onto her toes to press her lips to his and seal the contract.  The fool has no idea what he’s done.  “Perhaps we shall meet again in Hell,” Marcella whispers to him sweetly, but when she pulls away his hand snakes out to snatch her by the wrist; the first syllables of an exorcism dripping from his tongue.

It is a mistake, as the Cardinal soon learns.  Lucius is on him in an instant–no one so much as breathes antagonistically in Marcella’s direction without risking the old demon’s wrath–and in the flash of a knife across his throat those bright crimson robes are soaked through with blood.  When her lieutenant steps into the light, however, the crossroads demon erupts into a fit of laughter that fills the massive cathedral.  

Even centuries later, the memory of Lucius wearing a Nun’s habit is an image that never fails to bring a chuckle to her lips.

[crossroadcaesar-blog]

[ Continued from X ]

@killerpigfarmer

“Where would I be without my anger?” A pause before he clarifies, “Relax. It ain’t directed at you.”

“It’s different, Lucius.  You’ve always been angry, but it’s never seemed so...” Marcella trails off, searching for the word that’s dancing on the tip of her tongue, “--personal.”  She levels the other demon with a prying look, “If not me, then whom?”

[conflictedrealities-blog1]

    ❛  you're Lucius Warren ----   ❜  tone honeyed in a faux curiosity as azure irises took in the form of the accursed, standing in the midst of his shoppe as if he were LOST, looking for answers among the eclectic items decorating dusty shelves.  ring adorned fingers tap sporadically against the counter-top   &  his expression tenses with a falsely placed smile.  new faces didn't often find themselves in these parts,   the seedy undercarriage of society   (  flotsam & jetsam existence  )   where shadows cloaked a black market of magical dealings.  

      ❛   wasn't sure if you would be able to find this place.  i’m not exactly listed in the yellow pages.  ❜  

     LOVE or REVENGE. most spells & enchantments boiled down to two basic emotions.  yearning or hatred, both of which were driven by desire.  a longing that cannot be sated by mere force of will alone;   so desperate souls seek outside help. willing to pay whatever price they need to,  in order to fill the void darkening their hearts.    

        ❛  so, you need help breaking a curse, as I understand.   ❜  

[crossroadcaesar-blog]

"Five Times Lied"

Send “Five Times ______ed” for a Drabble of 5 different times our characters… did that.

@killerpigfarmer 

I.  She catches the way he huffs a little in disappointment when she shifts behind him; putting Lucius between herself and the pair of vicious Hellhounds that stand sentry at the doorway of Nybbas’ office.  The younger demon tries to quell the innate fear that has been trained into her since her days on the racks, and cemented by years of her superior officer’s brutality.  She calms a little when a harsh look from the old demon quiets the hounds, though her voice still tremors slightly when she assures her brand new lieutenant, “I’m not afraid of them...I just don’t want their slobber on my shoes.”

II.  It’s been two weeks since the solar storm that had temporarily robbed all supernatural beings on the planet of their ability to perceive or travel between planes.  Marcella is still shaken; borrowed stomach still twisting into knots every time she thinks about the terrifying sight she had been met with when the lights had come back on.  She can feel Lucius’ eyes on her as their carriage ambles down the road toward Naples; she’d given little explanation as to why they had to flee Florence with little more than the clothes on their backs and he knows her well enough to see through her apathetic facade.  The demon rests her arm on the window ledge, peering out as they pass by fields of sunflowers and her fingers absently toy with the simple golden comb in her dark hair.  “Better business prospects in the South,” she murmurs, “And there was nothing I cared about in Florence, anyway.”    

III.  “I need you to cover Vincent’s security detail in Shreveport for a few days,” Marcella says as coolly as she can manage; fingertips tapping anxiously upon a stack of contracts on her desk.  She doesn’t turn around to face her lieutenant; doesn’t want to see the judgment that she’s sure is written across his face.  Lucius isn’t stupid, and he’s not blind.  “There are some things here I need him to take care of--it’s...It’s not important.  Take an extra day of shore leave for the trouble.”

IV.  Even after all these years he is still not used to this face; still not used to the way it makes him want to scream every time he’s unfortunate enough to catch an unexpected glimpse of himself in the mirror.  The crossroads demon abruptly turns away from the reflection, snapping his fingers to shatter the glass into a million pieces that fall to litter the shag carpeting in Lucius’ shoddy motel room.  “Don’t worry ‘bout our numbers, Lucius, I’ve never missed a fuckin’ quota in two thousand years an’ I’m not about t’ start now.  We don’t need Vince or Riley...You an’ I can handle this on our own.”  

V.  Marcella huddles in the bathtub under a pile of pilfered towels; her vessel’s borrowed eyes puffy and bloodshot, stark against pale skin and sloppy tracks of mascara that run down her cheeks like watercolor.  The salt from her tears stings her skin, but they keep falling and it is all the crossroads demon can do to muffle her sobs in her cocoon of terrycloth so that Remiel and his bed-toy dujour won’t hear from the other room...not that they’re likely to over all the moaning and grunting, anyway.  The faint ding of a text message received sounds, and she reaches over to the ledge to retrieve her phone.  It’s from Lucius.  ‘How r u?’  He’s probably drunk, or fishing for a few more names off of her list.  She’s crying so hard she can barely see the screen as she taps out a reply and sends it off.

[Text - Lucius] I’m fine.  

[weaponsdonotweep]

@killerpigfarmer gets a starter becausE LOOK YOU’RE BACK

“He's an Alliance official. Do you know how many times I've said fuck the Alliance? This is my chance. I'm taking it.”

[crossroadcaesar-blog]

[Continued from X]

@killerpigfarmer

Lucius presses his lips into a thin line as he accesses the situation. Well. Since his Boss asked for honesty. Lucius has never had much of a problem giving it before. “…The shoes ‘r a little much.”

The crossroads demon fixes her lieutenant with a dry look, clearly not pleased with his assessment--nevermind that she asked for it--and huffs quietly as she toes off her brand new heels.  “So...Shore leave tomorrow, hm?” Marcella prompts, changing the subject before Lucius can tell her that any other part of her outfit isn’t suitable.  

[crossroadcaesar-blog]

❥ - say something positive about someone random.

» positivity meme

(My ‘random’ for this meme is the person at the top of my dash at the time a question is received, because I have issues and cannot operate without parameters…)

Okay, but let me tell ya’ll about Boots.  AKA @killerpigfarmer , AKA @pigwithpersonality , AKA @lachlanhonestly , AKA @mxforxmurder , and probably some others that are escaping me at the moment.  Basically, she’s got a lot of characters, and here’s why: Nobody I have ever had the pleasure to write with on this or any platform knows how to get inside a character’s head the way that Boots does.  Her canons are on-point.  Her OCs are multi-faceted, relatable, and evocative–hands down some of my favorites in the RP community.  And look, her storytelling is so tremendous that she’s actually a published author, and you should click THIS to go and check out her stuff on Amazon.  I didn’t know I needed werebears in my life until I read her Red Moon Ranch series.

More than simply her talent, though, Boots was one of my earliest writing partners when I first discovered RP on tumblr, and over the years we’ve had so much fun playing in our shared sandbox of angst and misery.  She is so chill, so kind, supportive, and just one of those people who totally ‘gets’ the concept of collaborative writing.  I really can’t sing her praises enough, and I think that anyone who has had the experience of storytelling with any one of her muses would agree.  I am forever grateful for the privilege.