#reclusived

[endexe]

DESCRIPTIONS OF [ REDACTED ] FROM MORI’S MUTUALS’ MUSES  [ PT. 1 ]

09-22-2021 ft. @hermarks   /   09-03-2021 ft. @dayshero   /   09-26-2021 ft. @truthsaved   /   09-20-2021 ft. @reclusived​   /   09-01-2021 ft. @aphorysms

[dr-foster]

plotted starter for @reclusived​ - Hide & Seek

It was spoken as a joke.

Jane had a vague idea of the darker side of Adam’s existence. He didn’t feed off people anymore; whether it was from necessity or not, it was fact. However, instinct didn’t fade just because the police made a discreet existence impossible. It didn’t fade because of the dangers of blood contamination. Jane took an oath of not doing harm and providing a vampire with blood did save lives and spare victims. But telling Adam he could chase her was entirely a joke, until Jane saw the way his eyes burned at the suggestion. 

“ Oh…” Her voice was small, surprised as she watched him with wide eyes, seriously considering the prospect. She found it didn’t bother her at all. Had she not played similar games as a kid? Sure, they were innocent and didn’t involve the undead, but if Adam wanted it, what was the harm?

That was how Jane ended up wandering alone in a secluded Detroit park during the dead of night. It was the best stage for the game they could think of. The house was cluttered with possessions that were too precious to get accidentally damaged in this game of hide and seek and nobody would interrupt them here. 

If the doctor had not known Adam was somewhere she couldn’t see him, the cool night air may have been the only reason for the goosebumps raised on her fair skin.  But he was watching, she could sense his eyes on her. Adrenaline was already surging through her veins triggering the overwhelming sensation of fight or flight. Jane was ‘prey’ in this game and though she knew there was no danger her body was still on edge. 

Trusting that Adam would never hurt her made the anticipation thrilling rather than terrifying.

[mieczlw-a]

shadow  and  bone  prompts   ;   ft.   @reclusived​     (   not  many  people  surprise  me.   )

is  it  a  compliment ,   a  threat  or  a  promise   ?    or  was  it  merely  the  musings  of  a  man  who  was  tired  of  the  human  race   ?    mieczyslaw  couldn’t  quite  tell  which  is  why  he  treads  carefully  in  his  response.   though  the  thought  has  crossed  his  mind  many  a  time  in  his  life ,  he’s  not  looking  to  die  today.  

“   i  know  what  you  mean.   “    he  states  consciously.    “   everything  is  so  predictable  these  days.  it’s  taken  all  the  fun  out  of  living.   “   there’s  no  thrill  anymore ,  no  surprise.   everything  you  want  to  know  about  a  person  is  readily  available  on  their  socials  (   or  at  least ,  what  they  want  you  to  know   )    and  if  it’s  not  ;   they’re  too  keen  to  let  you  know  as  soon  as  you  meet  them.   

you  know  a  person  before  you  get  to  know  them   ;   leaving  little  to  the  imagination.  it’s  sad ,  really.     “   well ,   i  know  what  you  mean  if  that’s  what  you  meant.   otherwise  feel  free  to  fill  me  in.   “  

[dr-foster]

@reclusived​​ sent “ 02.” for a kiss on the forehead  

Was it wrong to think somebody so ancient and deadly was adorable? If so, the doctor was fine with being wrong.

In sleep, Adam did not wear a perpetual expression of exhaustion. He was peaceful, beautifully so, passed out on the couch. Had he moved since she saw him last? Jane perched herself on the edge of the cushions, carefully moving a guitar out of her way. A fond smile formed as she moved wild dark hair back from Adam’s face, her thumb brushing against his pale cheek. It seemed almost a shame to disturb him.

Her lips pressed to his forehead, a gentle kiss to wake him up, as if they were living in a fairy tale.

“ It’s getting dark out, ” she whispers against his cool skin.

[vampyrasa]

                  a  spookytime  starter   for  @reclusived​   :   in  the  graveyard

the moon practically shimmered behind the jagged crest  of the many soaring pines that lined the steep hill.  so hidden a place was filled with such hearty woods, which ran up and down in crooked stripes across the worn-out streets leading into the inner city.  it’s light was stark yellow against a starless night, sailing through the dark clouds that clung to the earth like fog.   it was a place up high, where the gravestones had been well-weathered and scrubbed clean of the hundred-year-old names that once belonged to them.  that was where the count made himself to loiter, stewing in the song of distant owl-coos and howling dogs from deep within the trees.  

there was among the dead another scent that had caught his attention, that had lead him to take a casual gait in how he strolled from headstone to headstone, running a thin, pale hand along what chiseling was left of the antique soldiers’ names.  the scent of ash and blood; a hundred different kinds all mixed together and bundled within a set of veins he hardly thought to recognize.   be afraid,  my blood is far older, far stronger than your own.   fear me.   for i am the one who made you, though you are not to know it;  for as man has forgotten the face of his creator, so too has every fiend that drinks the blood of christ’s beloved brothers.

footfalls on wet grass were not subtle enough to evade his ancient, preternatural sense.   the count's eyes gleamed in the coming light, drinking in the tears of the moon ‘til it distilled within each pupil a shimmering silver cataract.   

❛❛      it would seem that the old spanish proverb was so incorrect... the dead may boast of friends with which to visit, even in the dead of night...      ❜❜