STRANGE TRAILS

[videsnoir]

 VIDESNOIR 

AN  ORIGINAL  CHARACTER  MULTIMUSE  INSPIRED  BY  SOUTHERN  &  PACIFIC  NORTH  WEST  GOTHIC,  THE  LATE  90's,  EARLY  00s  ANALOG  AESTHETICS  AND  COSMIC  EXISTENSIAL  HORROR  AND  DREAD.  WARNINGS  FOR  EXTREME  RELIGIOUS  TRAUMA,  MENTIONS  OF  CULT  ACTIVITY,  ABUSE  AND  OTHER  HEAVY  THEMES  WILL  BE  PRESENT.  ADULT  SUBJECT  MATTER  AHEAD,  PROCEED  WITH  CAUTION. 

SOUL  BOUND:  @ruralhell  ,  @vaultfreed  /  @abhorments

EXPLORING  THEMES  OF:  WHEN  THE  NIGHT  WAS  FULL  OF  TERROR,  OLD  FORESTS  AND  WHAT  LIVES  BETWEEN  THE  ROOTS.  PAIN  AS  TRANSFORMATION  AND  ROT,  SHAPING  THE  BODY  AND  SOUL.  CANYONS  CARVED  BY  PATIENT  RIVERS,  OH  YOU  FOOL!  THERE  ARE  RULES  I'M  COMING  FOR  YOU.  THESE  NEVERENDING  STRANGE  TRAILS.  HEAVEN  NEVER  EVER  HEARD  A  WORD  I  SAID.  I  CRIED  ENOUGH  TO  RAISE  THE  DEAD.  WHERE  CAN  YOU  GO  WHEN  IT'S  ALL  IN  YOUR  HEAD?  THESE  ARE  THE  LAST  WORDS  THAT  I  EVER  SAID.  I  AIN'T  LONELY,  I'M  LONG  LOST. 

CARRD. 

[videsnoir]

me, about to unearth a ridiculous amount of lore i built off lord hurons discography, then got discouraged over... yeah.

[videsnoir]

PARKS AND REC STARTER CALL : accepting @frzenfear ft. april & angie

ITS  SO  EASY  TO  JUST  TALK.  exist  in  this  space  so  far  from  every  little  pain  she’d  ever  known.  each  one  still  hums  cruelly  under  flesh  and  heartache  but  all  lessens  this  close  to  angie.  friend….dear  friend  with  a  touch  she’d  let  linger  and  every  order  she  kept  memorized.  ❛  jogging  is  the  worst!  i  know  it  keeps  you  healthy  but  god,  at  what  cost?  ❜  the  audacity  of  some  random  attending  asking  her  on  a  date,  she  had  no  stomach  for  it.  only  cause  it  sank  so  far  down  thinking  about  anyone  who  WASN’T  the  woman  seated  near. 

[videsnoir]

PARKS AND REC STARTER CALL : accepting @frzenfear ft. brett & john.

A  MORAL  DILEMMA  POSED  BY  HER  FEATURES.  she's  half  stripped  of  the  outdoors,  peeling  off  thick  layers  of  her  uniform  until  what  remains  is  the  thermal  she'd  stolen  from  his  bedroom  floor.  her  sweet  brow  is  knit  together,  weighing  every  option  as  she  paces  with  it.  ❛ i  can't  kill  the  possum  because  it  might  be  innocent,  but  i  can't  let  it  go  because  it  might  be  guilty.  ❜  it  tips  a  small  spiral;  the  warmth  of  john's  trailer  and  the  scent  of  him  fill  the  entire  space.  their  dogs  run  their  hello  paces—SHE'S  SAFE.  enough  to  let  every  hard-fought  camouflage  against  societal  standards  melt  away.  ❛ and  i  can't  make  a  good  soup,  i  can't  do  a  handstand  in  a  pool,  and  i  can't  spell  the  word  "lieutenant"—there's  a  lot  of  can't  in  my  life  right  now.  ❜

[blindsite]

@videsnoir was caught [10.] finding herself staring at stevie's mouth.

the diner had excellent pancakes and bacon — by a tipsy person's standards. she felt the syrup on her lower lip before the other said anything, and yet marnie was looking. thumb swipes and is drawn between her lips to clean it. a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as her thumb withdraws. the tips of her ears pinken as she speaks, ❝ i think it's polite tell someone if they have food on their mouth not stare at it. i'm embarrassed now, so thank you. ❞ there's no malice in her voice, just a playful lilt. she reaches for the cup of coffee and takes a sip. sobering up some was her main priority. a little bit of buzz could remain, but nothing more. ❝ how's yours? ❞ eyes break from holding marnie's gaze and sweep down her face to her mountain of fries and gravy. she doesn't know her companion very well and still, she dares to snatch a fry from where it stuck out on the edge of her plate. maybe the ease of their conversation emboldened her. or maybe she didn't care if it got her into some kind of trouble with the other. it wouldn't be very serious and she found she liked taunting her.

[videsnoir]

MUCH  AS  SHE'D  LIKE  TO  DENY  THE  WOLF  BENEATH  HER  SKIN,  the  moon  comforts  her  bones  on  wearier  nights.  evenings  she'd  rather  wear  a  scowl  than  anything  else,  biting  at  the  head  and  heels  of  anyone  trying  to  make  nice,  and  yet  here  she  was,  out  on  a  complete  limb.  and  caught  staring,  the  thing  she  loathed  most  about  people,  she  was  drawn  in  slowly,  more  slowly,  to  look  up.  ❛ i'm  not  very  polite.  ❜  her  skin  doesn't  reflect  the  sudden  wash  of  nerves,  but  her  smile  stretched  upward,  parted  with  a  chuff  of  laughter  when  she  watched  a  fry  get  snatched  up.  ❛ see,  we  can  call  it  even  now  because  you  just  committed  an  egregious  crime.   ❜  oh,  but  marnie  would  let  it  slide  more  than  a  few  times,  to  be  truthful.  it's  good  to  feel  a  spark  of  anything,  AND  THIS  ONE  SITS  LOW  AND  WARM  IN  HER  BELLY,  FLUTTERING.  ❛  it's  good.  i  used  to  bring  my  little  sister  here  sometimes,  so  we've  made  our  way  through  the  menu.  ❜  she  wants  to  know  so  much  more  about  stevie.  this  kind  of  sentiment  hadn't  taken  root  in  her  soul  for  god  knows  how  long,  and  that  old  fuck  wasn't  listening  either  way.  ❛   but  i  actually  thought  you'd  be  more  of  a  waffle  kind  of  woman.   ❜

[videsnoir]

my silly goose ass is having a wave of big sads up and down all day, so i'm going to go mobile for a bit and maybe trick myself into putting all my feels in graphics or writing eventually.

[videsnoir]

okay i found a way to make my starter call work better. like this for a small starter with dialogue from parks and rec ( cause im re-watching )

[nixscriptum]

where the storm meets the sunrise, I choose you every time.

[videsnoir]

gloria ciervo edits

[vaultfreed]

the breeze from the open window briefly pulls his attention, whether it was the stifling air in this cramped little town, or his own hot headedness making the truck warm, he couldn't tell, but one thing nate knew was that she was clearly enjoying poking her sharp stick into his side. and as much as it ate him, as much as it really drove him nuts, he came back for more each and every time. pitiful, truly it was. his whole entire life nate had stuck to his own, made friends sure, had some flings certainly, but he'd never been the relationship type― can't be in his line of work. there wasn't time or space for someone in life on a permanent basis, and yet when it came to the nights that he slept alone― he found himself wishing she were there with him. found himself more often than not reaching for the phone and finding a way back to her porch, even though he knew he shouldn't. found himself growing jealous over a woman that wasn't his, and yet he hadn't the fucking guts to ask her to be.

the stick pokes in just that bit deeper, his knuckles turning pale with that grip on the wheel, chewing on his bottom lip should he say something that he couldn't take back. he'd have to thank his father one day for that temper he inherited. came in mighty handy. “ not thinking anything foul of you― maybe that fucking jackass behind the bar. maybe about myself. but not you. you're in my head enough as it is. ” and it was going so well, until that smile she gave the blonde flashed across the back of his mind, and suddenly that truck was hot once gain. stop thinking about it, jealously is a right you don't have after all. casual― simple, not complicated― that was the deal. “― course looks like you were on someone else's' mind too. ” and there nate went and made it complicated.

[videsnoir]

SHE'D  STRUCK  SOMETHING;  cheap  as  her  prod  had  been,  and  she'd  save  the  apology  when  they'd  reached  the  bottom  together  and  built  up  again.  half  in  the  wrong…  she  knows  that  too,  but  her  heart  is  a  tender  thing  prone  to  BLEEDING  OUT  on  the  floor  at  someone's  feet.  he  didn't  want  that,  though,  did  he?  to  inherit  some  vessel  of  grief,  ghostwalking  through  every  corridor  of  her  home,  hoping  to  find  someone  she  loved  back  to  life.  there  it  was,  a  small  piece  of  the  inner  sanctum  that  had  turned  his  knuckles  pale  and  wrought  his  jaw  tight  with  tension.  ❛  that  so  bad  if  i'm  in  your  head?  ❜ traces  of  hope  soften  haunted,  honey  eyes.  any  word  she'd  conjured  between  his  one  sentence  and  the  next  caught  in  the  back  of  her  throat,  tangled  in  barbed  wire.

gloria's  smile  dropped.  she  might  have  chirped  back  something  clever  if  it  didn't  hurt.  that  little  ache  growing  inside  her  chest  doesn't  spell  uncomplicated;  it  doesn't  paint  a  mystique  of  casual  involvement,  and  it  sure  as  hell  doesn't  clarify  how  deep  this  all  really  cuts  between  them.  ❛  nate—  ❜  she  hates  how  small  she  sounds.  her  mind  wraps  and  warps  around  the  night,  every  touch,  and  every  sentiment  of  filth  whispered  in  his  ear.  every  ounce  of  need  to  be  near  him  drives  her  thoughts,  both  conscious  and  subconscious.  ❛  and  even  if  that  were  true,  WHY  WOULD  YOU  CARE?  ❜  that  pang  hits  her  again.  ribs  cracked  open  more.  she'd  faced  down  things  that  would  make  a  grown  man  piss  himself  in  fear,  lived  in  the  isolation  of  melancholy  built  by  a  mausoleum  of  kin,  and  for  some  reason,  she  was  more terrified  of  losing  what  wasn't  even  hers.  ❛  i  don't  want  anyone  else,  and  i  know  we  said  it  was  casual,  but  it's  never  been  that  way,  AND  YOU  KNOW  IT.  ❜

[naomiswilliams]

"Why didn't you ever ask me out in highschool? Or you know, ever?"

"Didn't think you'd say yes."

"Oh, I wouldn't have."

[blindsite]

@videsnoir plotted !

just his luck. just his fucking luck to land himself in missi-fucking-ssippi middle of nowhere ... and the trail of expletives in his mind turns to irish mutterings that could have once damaged the lands he was on, cursed them so nothing good would sprout for decades. no longer. instead, the only sounds around were mosquitoes buzzing and the suns rays scorching the pavement. yes, it had a sound here. and he hated that too.

he'd been walking for over an hour. maybe close to two at this point before he saw the edges of a fence. animals within said fence. horses! fucking a, he never thought he'd be excited about a horse. at least not in the way that this horse could be his savior. sweeney's pace quickened to a jog until he hopped the fence, where he slowed to approach the beautiful creature. there was a bend at his knees to make him shorter and less intimidating as a hand reached out at snail's pace to touch the tan stretch between two willful looking brown eyes, if he was granted permission. one single stroke of luck must have coursed in his veins because the snout dipped and allowed him to smooth over the soft hair. ❝ thank fuck. thank you. ❞ he was able to mount, bareback to his dismay, and begin to ride across the fenced in area for a short distance.

it wasn't long before he got near to the farm. old, well-loved, but clearly still inhabited. shit. it's as if the horse intuited his intentions just as the likely owner was approaching, with gun in hand. sweeney was bucked. he landed with a very solid thud into the grassy pasture. so much for escaping this fate. if he died before making it to new orleans, shadow's dead wife would just have to figure this shit out on her own. he sat up gingerly on his elbows and one hand left to give a wave. his body screamed defeat. ❝ hey there, i, uh, was goin' to borrow yer horse, but ya see how well that worked out for me. ❞

[videsnoir]

FINE-TUNED  TO  EVERY  LITTLE  BUMP  AND  CREAK  THE  LAND  MADE,  it  doesn't  take  much  to  stir  her.  the  mustang  wanders  where  he  pleases.  that  was  part  of  their  unspoken  bargain,  and  she  knew  that  beast  inside  and  out,  his  ornery,  wounded  soul  and  all.  but  that  sound  dragged  instinct  from  every  muscle  and  bone:  the  thud  of  hooves  and  the  explosive  whinny  of  a  horse  in  distress  or  mortally  offended.  gloria  was  out  the  door  before  her  brain  caught  up,  shotgun  snatched  from  the  wall.  boots  tread  across  the  weathered  porch  boards  as  she  jogged  toward  the  pasture,  HER  HEART  ALREADY  HALFWAY  TO  WORST-CASE  SCENARIO. 

instead,  she  found  rico  standing  with  his  ears  forward  and  his  expression  suspiciously  pleased  with  himself.  and  near  him,  a  man  in  the  green  and  loam.  HONEY  EYES  SURVEY.  the  picture  assembled  all  on  its  own—the  open  gate,  the  stranger,  four-legged  asshole  tapping  his  hoof  and  snorting  like  he's  howling  in  laughter.  her  mouth  twitched,  parted,  and  scoffed.   ❛  yeah,  well,  i  think  he  got  you  this  far  just  to  do  that.  ❜ 

the  shotgun  lowered,  and  something  strange  tugs  at  her  psyche.  some  oddity,  surely,  recognition  with  no  roots  to  hold,  ancient  and  fleeting  as  a  song  she  couldn't  recall  the  melody  of.  this  man  was  a  stranger;  of  that  she  knew  with  absolute  certainty.  gloria  could  still  feel  the  thread  tug  beneath  her  ribs,  pulling  open  scars  unseen,  and  it  was  gone  before  she  could  name  it.  all  that  remains  is  the  faintest  crease  knit  between  her  brows.  a  slow,  dry  chuckle.  ❛  worst  fucking  horse  BORROWER   i've  ever  seen.  ❜ she  extends  a  hand  to  the  would-be  thief.  ❛  c'mon.  before  he  decides  he's  got  another  lesson  to  teach  you.  might  as  well  look  you  over  before  i  kick  your  ass  to  the  curb.  ❜ 

[cahootings]

Lord Huron - Who Laughs Last

[videsnoir]

happy pridemus, merry gaysler, gimme wlw thanks i love you bye

[joyousdefunct]

“mm?”

barely a head-lift at first; all manner of envelopes stacked in hand. he cards through them while listening with one ear, the pinch-pull between brows deepening with the reveal of a fresh round of debt to be paid off by summer’s end. six thousand to their regional supplier. another few to fix the hydraulic crusher out back. overdue taxes on the land itself because his brother’s a dumbass who lost the notice. twice.

he sighs. looks up.

“i told junie to keep savin’ her dollars,” he fans hanna jo with the stack, fully focused now on her sugar-lite reprimand. “for when she really needs ‘em … ‘course i told her, by the time she’s big like me, she’ll have cash enough to buy every stuffed animal at the store.” he taps his temple, forward thinker, and flashes a smile, boots scuffing the dirty garage floor. this close, he could count her freckles.

he could do a lotta things.

instead, he slips the socket wrench from her hand.

“a possum? you don’ want somethin’ cute? a bunny, maybe ... or a bumblebee?” 

[videsnoir]

MAYBE  SHE  OUGHT  TO  REEVALUATE  HER  INTIMIDATION  FACTOR  ONE  OF  THESE  DAYS.  brush  up  on  skills  she  could  have  used  as  a  girl,  could  still  use  now,  maybe,  hardly.  all  less  useful  when  she  had  man  power  stocked  up  if  a  specific  brand  of  clientele  refused  her  word  or  hands  on  a  repair.

faint  little  breeze  gives  her  a  meager  ounce  of  relief,  its  swallowed  up  entirely  by  way  of  colts  proximity.  ❛  mmhm  makin’  a  lot  more  sense  where  her  logic  is  comin’  from  lately.  ❜ she  manages  a  quip  despite  herself,  DESPITE  THE  FLUSTER  of  summers  glow  dappled  across  her  freckled  cheeks.  that  warmth  holds  on  with  a  sound  of  protest  doubling  down  when  her  hand  was  suddenly  empty  and  her  opinion  on  plush  animals  called  to  question.

❛  ‘scuse  me,  what  the  hell  is  wrong  with  possums?  they’re  my  favourite  .  ❜  utterly  indignant  now.  she  doesn’t  move  from  her  place,  merely  pokes  at  his  chest  with  a  PLAYFUL  vigour.  hanna’s  grin  widens  a  little  more.  ❛  they’re  cuter  than  bunnies.  ❜

[phasmophobiia]

the concept of a much slower, quieter life was one that was lost on simon. heavy boots dragged across wooden flooring that looked thrice his age, his steps unsure like he was treading on ALIEN land, before his dark eyes land on the familiar of hers. is that what he had to look forward to if retirement somehow caught him before death could? shiny hair, color returning to your cheeks? chickens? he looks away briefly, his mind averse to the thought.

what good would sitting by a porch light on a hot summer night do for him when he could still see blood seeping out of johnny's scalp each time he blinked?

❝ mmm, ❞ he can only manage a grumble at first as he inspected her quaint little home. ❝ i'm fairly confident that i'm better company, ❞ he somehow recovers from his brooding with a dry tease. ❝ can't say you didn't at least miss it, ya? ❞

[videsnoir]

HE  LOOKS  AS  OUT  OF  PLACE  AS  SHE  STILL  FELT.   even  with  her  family's  blood  borne  into  the  land,  or  the  faded  pencil  marks  notched  in  the  kitchen  doorway  to  mark  her  growth—she  didn't  feel  deserving  of  any  fragment  of  peace.  just  her  luck,  no  one  remained  to  share  it  with,  but  at  least  all  her  hauntings  could  roost  in  one  place.  he  carried  it  on  his  back  across  the  threshold  with  NO  PLACE  TO  PUT  IT  DOWN.

❛  oh  yeah,  confident  and  delusional.  ❜ a  quip  before  her  smile  fades  somewhat,  lips  twitching  gently.  ❛  yeah,  something  like  that.  ❜ something,  akin  to  how  easily  the  violence  returned  to  her  bones  and  warped  their  design.  there  was  something  to  be  said  about  how  much  easier  it  felt  than  trying  to  live  among  people  who  couldn't  possibly  understand  what  her  EYES  HAD  SEEN  or  what  her  HANDS  HAD  DONE.  ❛  you  want  something  stronger,  yeah?  ❜ no  wait  for  a  reply.  motions  occupied  by  a  bottle  of  bourbon  popped  open  and  was  poured  out  in  abundance. 

[danaskulls]

[frzenfear]

@videsnoir