#nightmaretv

[cyberpunkonline]

This TV is fucking cursed.

[nullfier]

 ▍ CASE FILE . . . KUNIKIDA, DOPPO ⤻ @nightmaretv .

“ kunikida. ” dazai's voice, pitched into a pitiful whine as he cradled his jaw and slowly dragged himself behind his partner. no response. and so he would try it again, tone pitched higher, if even possible. “ kunikiiiiidaaaa. ” the slow drawl of his name only drowned out by the passing traffic alongside them, and anyone would have considered themselves lucky that the blow kunikida had delivered didn't knock them into the road itself, however dazai found himself forlorn with this realisation. “ kunikida has to be lying, ” he started then, airing out a grievance with the click of his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he nursed the sore spot burning on the side of his face. “ math teacher ... hmph. where did you get your degree, a juvenile detention centre? ”

[nearestend]

"oh. i haven't seen any those. i don't really go to movie theatres." an unhelpful statement that alice finds herself repeating too often. (she should know. they give her notes on these things for when she inevitably meets people. she never reads them.)

a hefty pause. just until she realizes there's supposed to be a follow-up statement or question.

"i don't like slashers or torture, i think they're cheap scares. i like gothic horror." (there was supposed be a question in there somewhere. here it is now.) "i meant to ask what subgenre of horror you usually do." (kind of. good enough.)

@nightmaretv, halloween starter for solana.

[nearestend]

"man, los angeles is craaazy," the final word is long and dragged out as philly attempts to balance a large smoothie cup in one hand, while digging through her backpack with the other. give a her a second while she removes its contents: numerous half-drunken bottles of mountain dew in various flavours, one godzilla plush doll, several spoons (?), different shades of obnoxiously blue nail polish, and then finally — the thing she was actually looking for — a pair of sunglasses that are a little too big for her facial structure. there we go.

now, resume smoothie drinking. "this bad boy costs like fifteen buckaroos. if you did that in brooklyn, they'd shoot you on site. craaazy."

@nightmaretv, ft. dean.

[adamanteine-a]

the field of grass ebbs and flows around her, blowing so delicately with the breeze. the sun has not long to go before it disappears beyond the horizon, painting the skies in a hazy pink that blends out into purple. it’s calm, peaceful, a type of tranquility that was so hard to come by. her fingers brush along the edges of the grass, feeling the ends that break away so easily under the easiest of movements. turning her gaze skyward, she watches the stars blink to life one by one with each second the sun continues to bleed away until it’s gone. the coldness that comes with the absence of the sun is immediate and she looks down to see the white dress wrapped tightly around her body, neatly tucked and pristine in condition— it was the same as the day she had been given it by her tailors.

something crawls up along her spine, dragging its long claws along the rigid bone until it wraps itself lazily around her shoulders. she can smell it with the gentle breeze, the stench of something else. it smells familiar, however. something has found its way into your garden. open your eyes, it hisses against her ear. her eyes open sharply, a figure looming over her as the air around her grows denser, flexing suddenly with a feeling that could only come from one person, but she does not react. ``     i wasn't expecting to see you here.    `` she watches @nightmaretv in silence as her lips curl into a soft smile. ``     are you not fond of the company inside?    ``

[solrites]

"perhaps there is no place where i can safely store my heart." (for maelina!)

"well, that's a rather sad way at looking at things, hm?" even now, lina manages to avoid sounding like she's SCOLDING the other, instead managing to come across gentle and reassuring, like she's offering a helping hand. hands gently hold out a small paper cup of tea. lina sits at the counter, pulls up another stool - a silent offering of more comfortable company.

"a heart is a DELICATE thing to have." sips on her own tea, and the smallest wince when she scalds her tongue. patience has never really been lina's virtue. "there's no shame in holding it with you, if you need to, sweetheart. as long as you're gentle with it. when you learn how to store it with yourself, then you can start with looking for others to hold it, hm?"