aaaaahhh.. you are so passionate for sam and it makes me so smiley,,, do you know he thinks youre cute? hhhe said youre cuteee...
and has sam ever caught you taking all these photos? has he ever seen any of your portraits.. he makes a lovely muse, doesnt he? 🗝
[Previous]
And no.... not yet..! Sam dissociates a lot... spaces out... He never pays attention when I take the pictures. Or I do it too quickly for him to notice. I'm also thinking... Edwin has this telescope lens in his collection... If I could just rent that...
Oh, HAH, wow, uh, I really doubt he said any of that though..! But its n-nice to think about...
( WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, GORE, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, RELIGIOUS THEMES )
You can only read that, which is written. And that what hasn't happened yet, has not yet been written.
Red smoke, cold flame.
Black cloud rises high.
It bleeds through overhead ventilation ducts, tinged with bitter taste of static.
The fight isn't going well. The fight, is going... exactly as planned.
Playcare's halls draw a reluctant breath as their tall Watcher only barely staves off oblivion, once again left by mortal hands- the hands of an Angel of Death, to twitch and writhe miserably across the floor.
He believed he'd thought of everything.
He thought they'd be fine.
One perfected cage, for the perfect follower. And... what a glorious cage Playcare was. It was, perfect. It was entirely his. Shaped and reborn of their very own mutual, eternal obsession.
He had started to forget, his many old wounds had at long last, began to close.
He had done such splendid work on the Great Book, beacon of hope in the dark.
He had been Awoken to true beauty of it all, of a perfect lie. One sleepless dream.
Those Critters adored him, he cherished them, protected, took good care of and preached, to them... every need, was met.
So, why... WHY, did he want to leave...? What had it missed, failed to consider?
And, truly... how much longer COULD they bear to keep denying him? They knew the cat, his strive only matched its own. Once his mind is set... will they be able to do it?
Naps is but all they truly have left.
Or- would he try and play into the feline's own ailing memory, „talk him up” until he's let the topic go- yet again? HOW many more times can he forgive itself in doing so?
Could he?
They no longer needed him, as he needed them no more. He can go.
Could they trust himself not to..?
Can't just leave. It isn't fair. How dare he.
Eternity will be lonely.
"--THEODORE-!? WHERE ARE YOU?!" Its voices demanded- wading rolling clouds of ash fumes on rapid, chittering talons.
"In, here..! You must... save me..!" Oh, no.
They needed not even ask about what happened.
Following the sounds of that damaged, ever filtered voicebox... The sight before him is a wretched one. The very last thing they hoped to see. His, own, High Priest... toppled, scorched and ruined in COLDblooded thunder, awash in warm glow of an open vent high overhead.
What's to come, is written in what's done. None escape.
He lowered itself to a kneel beside him. "So... both my trap, and my vessel failed... but HOW?" The large Critter scrambled, indignant fury in weakened movement. "It was as if they KNEW... that, employee, they KNEW every BUILDING INSIDE and out!" Naps hissed out on a filtered snarl, wrangling himself upright to face them.
"By the time the trap was set... they had already RANSACKED all of Playcare's power supply, and, and... I tried to stop- I swear, I TRIED, I-!" A fierce attack of tormented coughing interrupted his rage- his guilt.
"Calm... save your strength. We'll fix this." Claws of Providence tried, open at him to offer support at the feline's struggle. "--You ALWAYS say that..!" He smacked the cautious hands away with a growl- yet, immediately shed ALL pride once that flickering eye narrowed upon him. "I--! it HURTS so much, I'm, sorry, please..."
"You ACHE, because you know too much, old friend..." It chuckled at such whiplash, easily forgiving him. "Yet it- never, seems to be... enough." He huffed- oblivious to just how true that is.
"Tsk... a mere employee, showing SUCH disrespect, on such... hallowed, ground." Absentmindedly tacked on their weary vocalizers instead. He loped around to look him over, moving with weight- but not without finesse. "Your mind's wounds were recovering... but now-" The Machine extended a touch, to which he flinched away. "They're... only, getting, worse."
A beat passes... cinders floating lazily through the air around two deities.
"-Fear not. I'll deal with them." With this... Angel. "Please, please I can-- I can't TAKE it anymore-!" His paws flailed through the air, clutching at his own head, pulling at loose hide upon it in utter desolation of self. Manic, so terrified, so exhausted.
"I SAW them... Angels of Death, ruining their world before coming after ours... it was so REAL, Br-- I, I mean, Savior!" He caught himself post slip-up... sockets agape, ears pinned back with rippling anxiety. "-That would be BECAUSE it, IS.... real... Brother." Reluctantly they soothed, taking his paw. "Someday, that horror WILL come to us... which is exactly WHY, Theo... we must see to it that we PREPARE ourselves." Every piece, every memory counts.
"... I'm so tired, Oliver." No- don't say that.
"The bad dreams, my, visions... I've long seen the truth, and I've at last completed the Book... as you asked." Finally, a lanky arm moved, unzipping his body to pull out the beacon, safely nestled between folds of protective leather bind.
"I... long, to GO up."
They hope he'll mistake its growl of MAD engines for righteous fury, alarm for the work's own wellbeing or intrigue- rather than that of selfish indecision-- as Naps revealed its full, steaming form into the light. Had internal condensation helped protect it... or was its purpose JUST that valuable, not even corrosive fire braved chance upon damaging it?
An artifact of such power... WHAT a gift.
How... DARE... he.
The Savior bowed, claws ghosting over the Book's leather covers, over a gilded moon pressed into it... right. The... Book.
"The Book of Playcare..." it sighed in soft reverie. -"The Book of Joy." Catnap fondly corrected, with an ever smug tilt of that smile while handing it into their talons.
"...The Book of Joy." They echoed, failing to hide the brittle shiver in many voices. Its hands are barely theirs to command as they let the Book spread open in his embrace, letting pages fly by and fall, a stunning song of shapes and colors.
Pages... upon them, drawings- of times, long past. Every tear... and, every laugh.
The final page is what leaves breath in his chest fractured- like blades of glass sinking in their jagged teeth.
The, two, of them... together- from afar.
„t h a n k y o u f o r p l a y i n g w i t h m e.”
"This... this is, the most... beautiful thing, that you, COULD'VE... GIVEN, me." Still warm was the haunted tome in their hold, borrowed reverb of a petering out pulse.
-"Debt is a debt... Savior, of mine." He says.
He knows.
Its chassis ran cold.
He can wait no longer.
A... debt, is, a debt.
Act now.
"But--before that. That... thing I GAVE YOU- do you still have it? ... does it, still work?" It switched up the tune instead, craning his neck around on a prolonged, slow swivel with a trilling croon.
"I-I do... yes." Stop looking at me like THAT.
The cat forcefully buckled over... hacking up a weak, watery spray of crimson fog, but the Joymaker's hesitation... didn't go unnoticed.
Not this time. "Ollie... you, promised." The Awoken gasped out on a pained wheeze, claws scraping the smooth flooring.
"... so I did." They steeled its resolve with a resounding SLAM as the book swung shut in their grasp, before then far more kindly being set aside. He flinched again, but didn't waver- recognizing concealed strength.
Trusting it.
"VERY well... despite all your failures, you DID still lead them here, to a DEAD end of labyrinthian halls and haunted corridors." Mused one swirling cacophony of lost souls, of minds stitched together in one. "-I... SHOULD, reward you... for that." They began lining up its very stainless claws, other hand bracing them tightly together around the base of every knuckle to stop itself from shaking... Clutching a rite dagger.
"And, as I do... your remains, old friend. What will you, that I do of them, once... you are free?" He halted its approach, head angled with a patient dip of their mask. "-... make me... art. Make me, a- part of, your design... M-Midas, touch. Give me MEANING, give me a purpose... I hope, to grant the same hope you do-! I... p-please." The cat recoiled his excitement, claws twirling mindless shapes in the floor.
"... but of course. You always DID, have my back... didn't you, Brother."
The feline bowed his head, muttering a thankful, gentle prayer.
"Flames, have, tainted you... but now, they shall help you pave your way, to your own redemption."
Light the path.
Show them the way.
Or change the song-
Lead them astray.
He takes his position. Willing, an open embrace. Offering, his heart- his SOUL.
Oh how it MADDENS him.
Don't make me do this.
How DARE he.
It's what he wants.
how HAPPY he is to leave.
STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT.
HOW...
dare he.
"But, that thing I gave you..." Coils cry,
"-now I must have it BACK." he doesn't-
And their servo went down the Awoken's throat instead... as Critters bore witness.
He still hears it, to this day.
The chokes, pleas- muffled, despairing sobs, unable to swallow a bitter reality- as cold metal crawled on down his spine.
In pain, they found REVEL.
And, in revel... pain.
Critters mumbled, cried and whimpered, watching helplessly as their biggest was gored into. Several had dared rear their heads, from the shadows... exchanging shrill gasps and lingering, insecure glances.
Do... THEY dare?
His paws grasped at once loving limbs- now brutally carving into him from the Wrongside, eyes gone wild and wide in terrified, tortured confusion.
And, yet, for a single moment, no matter how brief, The Awoken... finally SEES it.
The Truth.
Feels it.
TRUE...
Happiness.
Immortal touch, purifying frigid fire as the blood rushed, down- into his lungs.
Pure.
For that one moment, eternity paused... blessed by steel. He, felt... COMPLETE.
Divine.
Bone against bone, their raw obsession, pulses touching, marrow merged as ONE as they struggled- in imperfect tandem.
Passionate sadism in his suffering... perfect pain.
I'm...
so
Happy.
Yet, as all that was perfect... it was over, craving claws twisting- and PULLING the smoke organs out of him, blackened and burnt blood trailing it in a shower of ash.
It hurt.
It dripped with pulsing remorse.
He hacked, coughed... watched, and spat out chunks of severed meat, as his own glistening core was wrung out for as those above, so those below to see.
It was Beautiful.
And smiling with that truth, he collapsed into silent delirium- tremors wracking his charred, mutilated body... vision, fading.
"You children are simply far too young to comprehend MY design..." The Joymaker began to address hushed clamors and soft toy whispers on a low, grinding rew... "-THIS, alongside every key, keycard and opened door left in their wake..." It held up the tarnished string of wrongturned innards, speaker and wires and vein, as if embracing a newly reborn soul- golden cascading light from above baptizing it in blinding purity. "-Shall transcend us... to true, immortal perfection. FREE of fear."
Whether old Naps was STILL listening or not... did not seem to sway him as they spoke, prowling back on around to him.
"Rest assured, old friend... I'll AVENGE you." They then easily coiled sideward, legs shifted to full height to stand over him, over his bleeding form, to be HIS monolith of salvation... "Now- let GO, of your misery..." Until a servo surged across, slitting the throat asunder, at last- his sad, gurgled breaths finally dying out on one pained rasp. "And... sleep well." They sighed... before reaching both of his bare hands down, to start working away at a freshly formed cut in the neck. Opening, unzipping his skin, taut fabric blooming apart without resistance.
From there, they finally started... to flay the hide.
Claws clacked along soft ribs, lovingly feeling each, and every individual one.
A pack of Critters crept ever closer, low growling beginning to pour into a room around their saints, sages, great deities. Around that ever growing pool of blood forming around what's still left of theirs.
Until a drop strayed just too far off the brim- and one, lone Dogday- pounced.
Getting snagged on its needles midair, the toy is promptly swatted to the floor-
Before meeting it with a wet, resounding crunch.
A shriek beckons them into motion- fear gripping lost minds, young, naive minds who'd just lost their Lunar searchlight...
A new one befalls them- scorching Sun.
"-HOW can HE ever find peace in KNOWING that YOU little ones have turned AGAINST me--?!"
And that was when the screaming began.
The swarm closed in, jumping onto him from all directions, clambering over his legs, all over him- panicked, scared paws in blind need of answers- of understanding, of justice.
Of salvation.
They freed his hands- head tossing back to force an uprooted mechanism down, through his own gaping overbite- down his own throat, and along their own spine.
Marrows merged. Red smoke bled free.
Death dance of blades, string and mist-
tossing,
threading,
piercing
and
tearing.
It went on for so long.
"You tiny BEASTS, you... let THIS, BE the LAST time you've shown me such disrespect." Engines revved, holding up „handful” of their scrambling bodies up to eye level with a ferocious, betrayed leer.
"I have just the THING for you, Critters..."
Too long.
"A lesson, must be learned..." The Martyrium prowled forth into their workshop, hand reaching overhead for, ONE... very, SPECIAL VHS tape.
i should say that … no ships on here are really going to be healthy . raoul is incredibly controlling & obsessive . As his devotion played a part in the ruination of his personal life , occupation & mental state , it had only worsened since . but even as tiago , he was still … clingy ? After losing his birth country ( Portugal ) & his birth family , Tiago grew incredibly attached to what he deemed familiar . It’s why he would get very devoted very quickly . Tiago had the potential for healthy relationships with other people , he WAS a nicer , more understanding man , but getting too attached was always a possibility . Maybe even love ! Maybe it was a bit concerning . But it certainly wasn’t … bad . Raoul , though , is all about control . Even fear . So afraid to lose what he’s worked to command , sustaining a comfort in his world where nothing could really hurt him again . & now he doesn’t mind hurting , using , even killing others ( or people he’s deemed his lovers ) .
HE was a well-dressed and well-groomed man, who perspired business and old money at the same time. confidently he followed the waiter through the back of the expensive restaurant in this cold city quite according to his like ( the cold always helped to ease the burning fire in this small body ), exactly on time: not one minute too early, not one minute too late. luc ( ifer ) beaumont, a french name arriving from the english country side; dealing with stocks during daytime & armed warfare during the night and hell in between. he had asked to start off the business talks of the next days with a nice dinner and tasked mr alkaev with choosing the perfect restaurant for the occasion; trusting him more in that regard than providing him food in his own home. he also had announced asked that he would take his wife with him, this gentle soul; had she ever so rarely ever the chance to get out of the country. ( and the last time she had attempted on her own, it had been the day of their m e e t i n g. )
she was an appearance and echo at the same time. hair as blond as gold, and dressed in flowing robes of lace and silk, he had adorned her with diamonds and silver reflecting every light in this dark country. lucia he had called her on the phone, and she had to be at least fifteen years his junior; not a trophy wife but a fairie queen caught in a cage. big brown eyes which took in everything while at her husband’s side, she seemed to be at the same time stunned as overwhelmed by the shine and glimmer this other world provided. words of passerbys in a language so foreign to her, she let her husband lead her to their expected hosts. careful she was, scared behind the curious expression she carried. there was a clever mind behind the bars.
lucifer talked, and she offered her hand as his queen.
“mister alkaev, it is a pleasure. this is my wife, lucia.”
vesper is an extraterrestrial entity from billions of light years away — and red is a boy from earth. logically, there is nothing connecting the two of them. for all intents and purposes, they both should have lived out their lives with absolutely no awareness of each other.
and yet.
a large chunk of the deoxys’ recovery from their initial crash-landing to earth ( and absolute decimation by rayquaza upon entry ) was done in rocket custody. but unlike organism one, organism two ( slash vesper ) escaped in the midst of his recovery. and in the process...
he wound up absorbing a sample of red’s blood that team rocket had on-hand.
now, this is where things split. in the manga, this leads to organism two believing that red is his ancestor. the connection that organism two feels leads it to willingly team up with red in battle, working together to blow up a rocket airship — and once that is accomplished, they amiably part ways.
but despite being very heavily based on organism two from the manga, vesper is not 100% organism two from the manga. vesper’s canon is technically gameverse, with plot elements from the manga mixed in. and as such, things played out a little differently.
vesper escaped from team rocket custody in the midst of his recovery. vesper absorbed a sample of red’s blood that team rocket had on-hand. but the resulting feelings that vesper developed for red were different. stronger. deoxys are viral pathogens — the only concept of ancestry that they have is of the mother, and red certainly wasn’t that. so then, what was he? individuality was hardly a concept that vesper was familiar with — and now here he was, overwhelmingly aware of someone’s blood, SOMEONE’S DNA tickling his nucleocapsid, dna in a place it shouldn’t be.
it was all-encompassing, it was excruciating, it was enough to leave him tearing at his own flesh because OUT, OUT, HE WANTED IT OUT, HE COULDN’T HANDLE IT!! he didn’t understand, he had no foundation to go off of, he had no frame of reference for what these sensations were. he didn’t have a name. he didn’t have a face. he had a concept, an essence, a shape ( unable to perceive the shape of you / i find you all around me. ) what was he? who owned the dna that had so completely ruined him, left him unable to focus, unable to function, because vesper’s every thought, vesper’s every moment of being was utterly consumed by him, him, HIM?
that dna embedded within him became an obsession.
'SOULMATE.’ at some point vesper picked up on that human word, and finally that all-consuming sensation had a name. soulmate. the owner of the dna within him was his soulmate, they were soulmates, soulmates, SOULMATES——
and though the thoughts never faded, never dimmed even slightly, vesper found that there were things to assuage them. sometimes he’d fantasize. sometimes he’d focus, really focus, on the dna that was imbued within him — and after weeks and months and years of practice, he could transform his own body into what was probably his soulmate’s likeness. even if the eyes were wrong, and the face certainly wasn’t quite right, and the skin shouldn’t have been blue in those places, the job was good enough; he’d strip near-bare and fantasize, watch as he dragged his fingertips along his arms, his torso, his thighs, and pretended that it was his soulmate he was touching, his soulmate who was under his fingertips, his soulmate who’d pant and squirm and groan and be so adorably human in that moment.
humans disgusted him, but for his soulmate, he’d make an exception.
and vesper is sure that one day they’ll find each other. this miserable rock of a planet was but a speck in the vastness of the cosmos. no force in the universe could keep them apart — he’s certain. and when that day comes, vesper will be ready. he’s been practicing for years, fantasizing for years. LOVE. that’s the human sentiment, right? they’ll LOVE each other. because that’s what SOULMATES do. his soulmate will be HIS, HIS AND HIS ALONE.
I so badly wish me or someone could be there to patch you up so you can be taken care of(platonic). I hate your perverted habits. I care for you. Please get better. Youre awful.
