#noblecide

[hiveruled-moved]

misc action memes

@noblecide​ 

Normally Kai wouldn’t notice a few dollars disappearing here and there, money wasn’t high on his list of priorities and it never has been. Even so, he couldn’t ignore the amount of cash that suddenly would VANISH from his possession in the last few weeks. He had purposefully left his wallet sitting abandoned on the couch as if it fell from his pocket and waited in the bathroom with the door left ajar so he could peer into the rest of the basement. 

It’s no surprise when his younger brother is the one to take the bait, a quiet EXHALE being breathed through his nose slowly before he steps out of the bathroom. The older Anderson sibling watches Tate rifle through the wallet and once he’s close enough behind him, still somehow avoiding detection, he finally speaks. “ Boo. “ 

[waitlonger]

@noblecide​ rsvp’d,   “Me? I’m a beacon of compassion.”

as the years pass, tate’s sweetness turns to a harsh sour. not towards her, per se, but towards the world. he is aging, dolores supposes. he’s no longer the apple cheeked little boy that crawls onto her lap after every nightmare — albeit she’s reluctant to admit the two boys have not been one in the same for some time now. 

with a sigh that can only be described as a mother’s exasperation, though ever affectionate still, dolores pats his cheek.   “play nicely, please,”   it’s not a demand nor a scolding. only a request she prays he cares enough to follow.   “please, tate. no more fights at school.”   dolores offers a smile beyond the years of her young visage, and just as weary.

[heirgrove]

▬ι═ﺤ   ;  @noblecide​   whined  SAID :   " i feel like high school is super fucking suffocating. "

   ❝ Mm — Yeah ? ❞   𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝑴𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮  𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 meets that quick, acknowledging  ( yet simultaneously disinterested )  hum && the nod of the head, the question proven to be entirely rhetorical by the NONCHALANT leaning against his bedroom wall, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓, attention set on the cigarette he brings to his lips.  Flick, 𝑪𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑲 !  a quiet sizzle — Billy takes a long drag before :   ❝ You say that about any place with more than three people in it, ❞

   HE ISN’T WRONG, THOUGH, high school is pretty fucking suffocating. Billy guesses he could say he’s got it easy —  he’s got friends, && the majority of that 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, for most, ( well - at least for the sad-sacks people less fortunate in the friend department ) comes from the teenaged pack-mentality of  𝑲𝑰𝑳𝑳  𝐎𝐑  𝑩𝑬 𝑲𝑰𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑫 — he’s got no trouble there … It’s school itself, THE LEARNING BIT, that makes him feel like a wave has overtaken him && he’s lost his board, got water in his lungs.   Billy IS smart, but in a LIFE SENSE, a PRACTICAL SENSE.                  && it isn’t as though he can’t learn, its just that getting the information back OUT, once it’s in, is a bitch to get good at.  

   ❝ You’re right, though, ❞   Another drag.   ❝ School’s a load of bullshit. ❞   Eyes flick to the book laying with its innards to the sheets, the cover just as UGLY && STRESS INDUCING as the rest of it. The Great Gatsby. The Great Pain-In-The-Ass.  Billy stops himself from picking it up && CHUCKING IT at the wall.   ❝ We’ll be out this joint soon enough, though. Two miserable weeks left ’til summer, and then we’re free to be miserable without also having to worry about — ❞   He can’t help it, now ; Billy kicks the book off of the bed.   ❝ This shit. ❞

[paleddeath]

Continued from here. 

@noblecide​

A  long  pause,  the  anti-pope  still  as  a  statue...AND  THEN  A  BURST  OF  ENERGY!  “Yes!  That  is  what  I’m  talking  about.  Both  is  good!  I  know  a  man  with  good  music  taste  when  I  see  one.”  

                              He  also  knows  a  dead  man  when  he  sees  one,  but  he’ll  save  that  line  of  questioning  for  later.  It’s  a  bit  rude  to  mention  sometimes,  no?  

“I—just  so  happen  to  MAKE  heavy  fucking  shit...  Not  the  drugs  but  eh—  .”  

[mausolea]

send me a symbol, and i will make an aesthetic for a character themed around and using the colours of their

for @noblecide:  👕 tate’s preferred colors to wear. muted colors- mustard yellow, green, brown, black.

[seenghosts]

if  anyone  𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥  to  pay  attention,  you  would  know,  you  could  find  michael  in  one  of  two  places.  either  in  the  kitchen,  or  sitting  in  the  attic  contemplating  the  afterlife.  today  it  was  the  former.  michael  wouldn’t  say  he  has  trouble  𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨  in  his  youth,  but  he  did  have  nights  where  his  𝘢𝘯𝘹𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘺  was  so  bad,  even  the  drugs  couldn’t  help.  on  those  nights  michael  snuck  downstairs  to  make  cookies  &  it  always  seemed  to  work.  death  didn’t  change  the  𝘰𝘭𝘥  habits. 

michael  is  placing  the  tray  in  the oven  when  the  ghost  knows  he  is  not  alone.   turning  around  slowly  he  catches  the  other  in  the  shadow.  ❝   you  can  𝘫𝘰𝘪𝘯  me  if  you  like.  company  is  welcome.   ❞

@noblecide​         𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘳  ! 

[violetiine]

closed starter for @noblecide​

Lifting yet another box from the moving van and transporting it inside, Violet already knew that she hated this place. Ben and Vivian were being uncharacteristically peppy with each other - obviously a front for the guys who owned the van - and all they kept talking about was how great this was, how beautiful their new house was, how good the sunshine would be for her. Violet remained sullen, slowly filling her new room up with tattered boxes labelled with her name in black marker.

“Why did you get to bring all your stupid books but I wasn’t allowed to bring my tape player?” she complained to her dad, passing him a box from the van.

“Because it was massive, Vi. We’ll buy you a new one. A better one, I promise,” he responded, turning his back to head into the house. Asshole.

When his back was turned, Violet rolled her eyes, only resisting the urge to flip him off because of the moving guys. A glance was sent to the house next to them, a huge LA Victorian that probably cost a fortune. As she was wondering what kind of stuck up wannabes lived in a house like that, she caught sight of a figure in the window: A guy that looked about her age.

With every trip out to the van, Violet found herself looking back at the house. With every glance, the boy was still watching her. It was getting creepier by the second and she wondered if this was gonna be a recurring thing. Great, another reason to hate this place.

It was late afternoon when they finished unpacking. Ben and Vivian had gone to pick up some food, leaving Violet alone in the house for the first time. She used her temporary freedom to have a cigarette outside, startling slightly when she noticed her neighbour appear in their own front yard.

“I saw you staring earlier,” she said after a moment of silence. Dark eyes cast a glance towards him, searching his expression for some kind of explanation. “Do you have a problem with me or something?”

[oldbcne]

@noblecide​ gets ANDREW!! 

   travel was something that drew was used to. it was apart of the job. however, this trip was one that drew was most uneasy about. they were worried that they had gone in over their head. they had heard the stories, and they were unsure if anything was exaggerated. so drew decided they might as well go check for themself. it wasn’t like andrew to be this nervous on a job, but the MURDER HOUSE had quite it’s history. now that andrew was inside, they couldn’t help but think that they might be in over their head. 

   flashlight scans the room, searching for the the spirits they FELT. this was different, so different. it almost mad them sick to their stomach. so much pain here, much more than they had ever dealt with. drew takes a deep breath, trying to ease their nerves, trying to push away the thought that maybe they should go back home. 

    “uh - anyone here??” not their best first words in a place like this, but it was too late now.