#modern killer

[ask-modern-verse]

Result of my small drawing stream!

Killer essentially works at Grillby's as a bartender. I have yet to make his official casual outfit but here is his work uniform!

(Someone asked me my top five Sanses so uh, Killer is showcasing it-)

-irena

[badcynosure-blog]

Gary Ridgway (born 18th February 1949) is the american serial killer The Green River Killer that was active from 1982-1998 before he was caught on November 30, 2001. He was convicted of killing 48 women, but confessed to another murder in 2011. The estimated number of Ridgway’s victims is around 70+ though. Many of the victims were allegedly prostitutes or underage runaways which Ridgway would strangle, usually by hand, to later dump their bodies in forested and overgrown areas. He would often return to the dead bodies and have sex with them.

The famous serial killer Ted Bundy actually helped the crime investigators to try to catch Ridgway and many of the things Bundy said about Ridgway came to be true. An example is that Bundy pointed out that Ridgway was probably coming back to the dumping sites to act out on sexual acts on the victims’ dead bodies so a way to catch him or some traces of him would be to leave a body and try to see if Ridgway would come back to it. 

Ridgeway is today 67 years old and serving his sentence of life imprisonment with out parole.

[polkadot-soldier]

Cupcake Wars

[@yamakaze-kirin​ + polkadot-soldier]

Enraged cerulean orbs glowered down at the crimson of the second place ribbon. Second place. This insult was an attack against his very existence, he was the champion, protected that position with blood, sweat and tears - mainly tears on the part of his opponents. Fighting tooth and nail to maintain his spot at the top, and today some ginger haired, wide eyed upstart had waltzed in and stolen his rightful title with cupcakes.

Cupcakes! Innocent, unassuming, quaint cupcakes had bought his victory streak to its knees. It was so unfair!

This entire situation left him seething, wanting nothing more than to destroy the table of mediocre baked goods while throwing a temper tantrum that would put a four year old to shame. Instead he was accepting the lukewarm condolences of his peers, though he knew they were simply thinly veiled jibs at his failure. Overcooked shortbread in hand he stared at the little cupcakes up on their pedestal. What was even so wonderful about the little vanilla treats?

Narrowing his eyes at them he sighed, there was only really one way to find out. Checking round he lent over the table and plucked one of the cupcakes from its place among the tester section. Moving out of the way of busy well dressed women he found a nice quiet space to concentrate on the flavor. Peeling back the delicate paper cover he bit into the soft base.

It was like biting into a cloud, the cake impossibly light and fluffy. Practically melting onto his tongue like spun sugar, leaving behind the light taste of vanilla. Almost as if it was the memory of a taste rather than the actual substance. It was gorgeous and decadent, and before he realised the treat was gone leaving him standing wide eyed in his on world and desiring more.

He needed the recipe, and he needed it twenty years ago. Casting his eyes round the showroom for the flash of orange hair of the newcomer. He was going recipe hunting.