#mortisvitae

[leadxxr]

@mortisvitae emerges from the fog.... (The Trickster)

Something instinctual makes Dwight turn around, a certain tangible energy in the air. He sees nothing, takes a step and off fall his glasses, severely compromising one of the lenses. As he kneels down to retrieve them, he mutters a soft profanity under his breath and dusts the dirt off before his eyes finally begin to focus on something that wasn't there before... a pair of feet... Slowly, he looks up and his heart sinks...

[creatureshrieks]

❝ was that the first dead body you ever saw? ❞

@mortisvitae || Susie & Frank || prompted.

Frank brings his head down from focusing on that snowy Ormond sky as Susie speaks to him, his breath coming out in white puffs from beneath his mask. It wasn't as if he truly needed to wear it at the moment, but something felt... good, about wearing it. Like it belonged there on him. His hands are on the wooden railing once meant to keep visitors from pitching over the side of the balcony. His head hangs, mostly leaning on his shoulder.

" What, you mean the fucking cashier or whoever that was? "

Their first kill. Together. His knife puncturing flesh first, followed by all his friends... mostly. Susie had been the only one of them to hesitate, to need his hands to guide her. He could still feel them trembling in his hands. Their fingers gripping the already blood-slicked blade. Cutting through his throat. Watching the life leave his eyes, gurgling on the blood pooling in his esophagus. Definitely her first body, Frank thought.

" No. "

Frank gives a simple, honest reply. He sounded casual.

" Earlier foster home, got to experience something called a grandparent. Old bastard ended up dying, though, and it's apparently a social taboo to not give a shit about a funeral. "

He didn't cry. Didn't seem to care. He guessed that was the final straw. He was shipped off to the next home soon after. " Unless you mean first one I killed. "

His voice sounded sharp. An edge to it. A grin began to form under his mask as he leaned back, holding himself up by his hands on the railing. Now that was a question, wasn't it. Just how violent was Frank before he met his friends? He was always the one pushing, prodding, demanding more and more. He was the one breaking bones, drawing blood. It was no secret Frank had a trail of broken homes too fed up with his shit.

" What do you think, Susie? Think I killed someone before? "

[g0thics]

behind a glass of draft beer, the man called jed olsen watches a reserved table positioned by the panoramic windows of the hotel's gilded restaurant, rheumy eyes following the waiter escorting @mortisvitae to an empty chair that faced the bar, the row of casual drinkers concealing his scrutinizing stare like tall grass.

yun-jin lee arrives at their venue early, fifteen minutes before the first shade of dusk. but jed— danny— arrived earlier than that.

the sunlight fades. danny decides to let her wait an additional twenty minutes, let her watch the other patrons around her finish their meals and stand up to leave. he assesses her expressions, the lacquered nails tap-tapping against the tablecloth.

"sorry i'm late," he announces, smiling. behind her, now. the lens of his camera grazes yun-jin's shoulder, as he brushes past her and quickly occupies the chair set across from hers.

"traffic was murder."

[vigil4nted]

@mortisvitae / [cont from ask]

A NEW KILLER ALWAYS BROUGHT new anxieties. Leon can't say the contact is unwelcome - but he hopes she can't feel the way his heart races in fear beneath the police vest. At least his own fear is hopefully contained. He takes a steadying breath, putting his arms around her as she's staying close. He wants to make promises it's going to be alright - but even he doesn't know. 

" We'll... we'll do our best. " Not that much of an inspiring of confidence, but it's realistic of him. At least he is still looking on the bright side. " We just... have to take a minute to get ourselves back together and that's okay. Sometimes things get overwhelming and it's okay to be overwhelmed. " It's more of a clear reminder to himself than anything else. " We can stay hidden until we feel better, I don't mind. " He gives a soft smile, and a reassuring nod. At least he believes that much.

[leadxxr]

papa and the gang's all here @mortisvitae

[leadxxr]

@mortisvitae | survivor!susie

Something familiar about her hair . . . a faint recollection of his time before the Fog . . . Maybe Dwight was able to hold on to a single soft spot that separated him from who he was versus who he had become . . . "You remind me of someone I used to know . . ." he sighs, almost as if reminiscing the memory of a girl who never knew he even existed. Something about her felt . . . bittersweet.

"Pink is a good color on you . . ."

[creatureshrieks]

why did you trick me?

@mortisvitae || Susie & The Unknown || prompted.

" TriCK... " The creature mimics her, the tone in its voice almost thoughtful. Yes, it tricked her. That's what it did best. Crying out into the night, begging, pleading, echoing the sounds of previous victims to lure in future death. A thousand dead voices that are ripped from its throat. The screams, the sobs. The whimpers. So, too, did it mimic less unfortunate sounds. That of movies, of songs, of passersby. Countless sentences, countless words. All used to trick her.

" TriCK.. oR.. trEAt... "

He's heard that often. Every year when the sky is dark and the wind is cold. When hundreds of monsters ran to and fro. When people were too scared to leave their lights off. When it glutted itself on hapless prey. A trick for her. A treat for him.

It's neck bends, awkward, forward, as if it is attempting to lean closer to her. It reeks of old blood and earth. It gurgles, soft growls in its twisted throat.

" TriCK.. oR.. trEAt... "

[leadxxr]

❛ get the hell away from me. ❜ (surv suz and killer dwight?)

@mortisvitae | survivor!susie

"You know how many times I tried that line?" He asks with a calculating stare, reflecting on the eternity he had spent groveling and begging for his life at the feet of many a merciless killer. "I'll let you in on a little secret, pinky . . ." the pet name felt strange coming out of his mouth. He had completely changed since the Entity's intervention. The old Dwight Fairfield might as well be dead. "It never worked. . ."