
#extradirty
todays bird
Xuebing Du
Sade Olutola
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
Cosmic Funnies

Andulka
Sweet Seals For You, Always
occasionally subtle
dirt enthusiast

roma★
almost home
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
trying on a metaphor

⁂
Today's Document
DEAR READER
Misplaced Lens Cap

seen from Sri Lanka

seen from United States

seen from Germany
seen from South Korea

seen from United States

seen from Philippines
seen from Yemen
seen from United States
seen from Chile

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from Canada
seen from Brazil
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Bangladesh
@zydratexpeddler
Date two boys who will let you be in the middle of a cuddle sandwich. Be poly.
lxvingdeadgxrl:
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lxvingdeadgxrl:
The young woman looked to the bag as he pushed it towards her, the scent of cinnamon and sugar hitting her nose. There was no denying that it smelled good, and her stomach perked up a little at the thought of it… He was right about the adrenaline drop, of course…it would hot her and it would hit her hard, after all she had been through that night, but the sugar might help to take some of the edge off.
She thanked him quietly, finally reaching for the paper bag in question. The rest of the roll was carefully pulled out, the young woman slowly nibbling on it. It was good, as she’d expected it would be.
The pair sat in silence for a bit, which she didn’t mind in the least, even if the silence allowed her to drift back into her own head. Which, in retrospect, wasn’t a great idea, considering what she’d been through. She didn’t need that reminder just yet, didn’t need to dwell on that trauma, as she was sure it would replay in her mind for the foreseeable future.
But she nodded a bit when he asked if she wanted to get out of there. Yeah…it might be for the best, because there was no telling if or when The Black Dog would pop up again, when he’d terrorize her once more. Part of her wanted to decline the man’s offer, truth be told, as it wasn’t fair of her to drag him into all of this, but the louder part, the part running the show at the moment, just wanted somewhere off of the grid to rest for awhile. “Y-Yeah…yeah, please.” she murmured, packing away what was left of the roll for later.
He was right. She didn’t want to be alone. As much as she didn’t want to involve anyone else, she really didn’t want to be alone right now.
Glad that he didn't have to awkwardly try and coax her into eating some of the cinnamon roll... he let the silence between the pair of them grow. Really, he wasn't much of an idle talk kind of guy. And they didn't know one another -- literally, he hadn't even bothered to ask her her name yet, and there he was, sitting in a cafe with her like they were friends. Maybe that was just the backlash of surviving, and witnessing the tail-end of a traumatic experience? The grave robber witnessed a great deal of things, actually. Had seen people in their lowest moments, and had countless tale of the mangled corpses he waded through on a daily basis. And still, he wasn't entirely certain what was the protocol on something like this. If there was one at all.
It was nearly a sense of relief, when she had agreed to get out of the cafe. Even though he frequented, there was something about all of this that made him feel so out of place. Or maybe it was reaching out her, they way he had. There was nothing that he could really offer in the way of comfort that didn't come in a glass vial -- so what the hell was he doing? A small part of him wanted to just back pedal. Let her have whatever cash he had on him in the moment -- which was a pretty good sum -- get her set up somewhere safe, and be done with it all. But part of him, maybe whatever humanity was left within a sinner's heart, wanted to see that she really was safe. Not alone, especially after all that she had gone through that night.
Standing once she'd packed up what was left of the roll, he'd let her have his coat again, even if it was big on her. She'd need it more than he would, considering the state of her. Getting the door, he held it open for her, and made a soft rolling sort of gesture in the direction that they needed to go. After a long few minutes, he broke the silence.
"It's not much, but you can stay as long as you need." She could come and go as she needed, he'd show her how to pop the lock to make it easier, if she wanted. However long she needed to feel safe again. Whatever that took.
Indiscreta Magicae
zydratexpeddler:
hasmadeusgods:
Alan followed behind the other man, cautious, and doing his best to pay attention to the ways they went, so that he could get back easily (or escape, if necessary.) Eventually they arrived in a graveyard - which made sense. He was looking for the Graverobber, after all. When the other man finally turned back to him and spoke, he arched a confused brow. “Are you…? But how do I…?” And then he stopped because he realized he had no way of knowing if he was dealing with the REAL Graverobber - even if the man said so.
Taking a deep breath, Alan nodded. “Very well. I need someone who can steadily supply me with Zydrate - preferably on a weekly or bi-weekly basis. I can pay, of course. However…there are other services I can offer as well. I’m a scientist…and a medical doctor.” He stressed the last part, but didn’t expand on it, leaving what he could or couldn’t do to the other’s imagination. “My hope is that we can come to some sort of service arrangement that will be beneficial for the both of us?”
Alan thought of his greenhouse and the things he was capable of making, but didn’t offer up that information just yet. He had to be careful who he shared details with…so very careful. He also wanted to broach the topic of obtaining organs - but not right away. He needed to see if this man was amenable to working with him first…he needed to feel like he could trust him.
A solitary brow raised, as the man seemed to question the fact of who he was speaking to. While he was wrong, it was commendable. There were too many that took whatever they thought was the correct knowledge for granted. Or simply didn't care enough to dig any deeper into answers, so long as they got what they wanted. Though, again, the mortal's cleverness got to him, before it could be pointed out that there was no proof of who he was, or wasn't, short of giving out his real name... and he was certainly not in the business of doing that freely.
Allowing the man into the forefront of his house, what served as an office, of sorts, as he spoke, there was nearly a scoff. So it was about the drug. Why was it that he thought otherwise? Though, with the way that he spoke of it, the Troll had to wonder what it was for. Even the junkies that begged him for it were not so particular about a set schedule.
For a long moment, he didn't speak. Instead, his eyes were scanning the many jars that he had lined on a shelf. Perhaps to an untrained eye, it would look like junk stored within them all. Or garbage. A butt of a cigarette. A chewed peice of gum...But none of it was there, without a reason. Long, slender fingers tapped against one of the jars -- soot shifting within it's curved walls, before he looked back at the man. Considering the offer.
"I am curious to know what science or medicine you believe would of use to someone that steals from the dead." It wasn't a no. He was curious, and that was granting the man much more favor from the Troll than he could really know. And truly, it was no fault of the man -- if he knew that he was not exactly dealing with a human, perhaps things would be different. But there were rules, even for someone that lived on the iron side of the realms.
lxvingdeadgxrl:
Within the metal walls of the elevator, they were safe…at least for a few moments. He could breathe easily for awhile, for no one could touch them in there.
Down, down, down the elevator went, unstopped, no other people looking to get on, which was a miracle all on its own. It wasn’t an abandoned building by any means, with other Genterns, doctors, guards, the like…though it was quite late, and many of the employees had gone home for the day. With any luck, they would be able to get out without being noticed…So far, their luck had held out, she just prayed that it would continue.
At his words, she noised softly. Almost there…almost free. It was almost too good to be true. She’d been there for so long, been under the knife and under the heavy doses of Z for so long that she barely knew what reality was any more.
Eventually, the elevator dinged and the doors parted, the two of them in the lower basement level. There would be a door there for sure, there had to be. As he said, the employees were constantly dragging out bodies and the like, and it would cause a scandal if they were to take them out of the front door.
Upon investigating the massive space, he would indeed find one towards the back, near a set of loading bays for the trucks.
He wasn't entirely certain if he let out a breath, the entire time they were on the elevator. So such was he, that the doors would open up, and they'd have no where to escape to. Because for as calm and collected he was standing there, holding her body up against his chest -- the grave robber was a mess. This was not in his prerogative. This was not his normal. Sure, he tempted fate and had a merry chase now and again out in the open cemetery... but he knew that area like the back of his hand. Knew that there were at least a dozen places to duck into, or even a open grave or so to hide if things got too sticky. Here? Here there was no cover. Here, he was damn well surprised that they hadn't been caught already. Or maybe they knew what he was doing and were waiting, and that only seemed to make the thoughts worse about it all.
But he wasn't... he couldn't just leave her there. Even a coward couldn't be that heartless.
Shifting her against him, not wanting to tire out before they were out of there, he made sure to rest most of her weight against his chest while they had the chance for it. If this was going to work --
PING!
He drew in a slow, steady, breath. It was now or never. His heart seemed to be pounding so hard in his chest, it nearly hurt. This was insane. Absolutely insane. Making his way out of the lift with her, his steps were slow and calculated. It was hard to see well in the mask, but it looked, from what he could gather, was something of a bay door over towards the left of them. Another glance around, as best as he could without drawing attention, if someone truly was watching them -- it seemed like the best option to head. He just hoped that he wasn't wrong about it. If it proved to be something else, that would only alert anyone around them, that they didn't truly belong there...
Steady steps, trying to keep her even, and still within the illusion that she was simply a spent up body of a GenTern, he made his way to the door. It seemed like they were going to make it. He just hoped that luck lasted.
inlucisabsentiam:
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just a fun little character game. fill in the below categories with 3-5 things that your character can be identified by. repost & tag away !
Clarence Zamboomich GRAVEROBBER
EMOTIONS / FEELINGS : 01. A sense of power when he’s dealing/selling 02. near recklessness (sometimes) 03. cowardice (mostly when being hunted by a certain GeneCo heiress.)
COLORS : 01. blue 02. black. 03. red
SCENTS : 01. dirt of any variety 02. probably dead bodies. 03. leather 04. sex
CLOTHING : 01. lovely trench coat with fur lapels. 02. big ass boots.. 03. chains on the belt with a ostentatious fucking buckle.
OBJECTS : 01. pocket magnifying glass 02. mortician’s syringe 03. A LITTLE GLASS VIAL 04. satchel
VICES / BAD HABITS : 01. ROBBING GRAVES??? 02. Breaking and entering. 03. petty theft 04. drug dealing. 05. leading innocent teenagers to god knows where.
BODY LANGUAGE : 01. Rolling hand gestures. 02. Lots of relaxed posture. Leaning in doorways, v. comfortably perched on dumpsters... 03. Fantastic range of facial expressions.
AESTHETICS : 01. jumping into dumpsters. 02. riding on garbage trucks. 03. dingy alleyways. 04. cemetery. 05. glowing blue brain drugs.
SONGS : 01. Mama, we all go to Hell - MCR 02. Streamline - VNV Nation 03. Let the bodies hit the floor - drowning pool
TAGGED BY: @inlucisabsentiam or @lxvingdeadgxrl one of the two. TAGGING: @lxvingdeadgxrl (for Joakim) @messrtender @messrstorm @geneticallyemancipated @posterchildofprogress @musesea (For Pavi, if you wanna) @the-fires-dead (For Luigi)
CHARACTER FOCUS: GRAVEROBBER
REPO! THE GENETIC OPERA
Imagine Your OTP
Tol: is that my shirt
Smol, wearing a shirt that goes down to their knees: ... no
((Valentine’s day card for Graverobber! Happy Valentine’s Day! :D))
When You Were Young
zydratexpeddler:
inlucisabsentiam:
“Sweet. We go to the same school.” Lilja grinned, face obscured a little by the smoke that drifted from her lips as she spoke. At that moment, of course, they knew nothing about his father. Nor just how crazy he was. They were good at acting, if anything. One had to be when growing up with parents who were certifiably insane, and part of a cult.
“We live on the other side of town. Out in the country.” Ras replied. “One of our uncle’s friends invited us out to this.”
“Easier to keep chickens and grow your own food when you don’t have to worry about fucking neighbours bitching about the rooster.” Lilja added. Even if a coyote had recently gotten their rooster, and it was easier to walk down the road to the neighbour to get eggs from them. Their chickens just didn’t want to lay eggs, it seemed.
Admittedly, there was a tint of surprise that laced his features, when Lilja had mentioned that they went to the same school. There were only two High Schools in the town, it was a half of a shot... but still. That meant that there could be time unsupervised by his father, for him to get to know the pair of them. Because he wanted to. Even just being with them in the few minutes that he had... he felt more at ease. More... alive that he had before. It wasn't something that he could explain, but it felt like there was a clear change already starting to blossom within him.
"Oh, yeah? I've only been down that way a time or two. Seems nice there." Was that really all that he could contribute as far as a comment? All of his life he felt like he was being suffocated in this town, by his father and his... followers... and now, the one chance he had to even have a minute escape from it, and that was the best he could come up with? Clearing his throat, he looked over his shoulder - still halfway expecting his father to come busting through the shed door at any given moment. Glancing back to the pair of them, eyes lingering on Ras for just a second longer, before he looked no where in particular. Moving to look through another box, just to keep himself busy. "I know these things are pretty boring, but I'm glad for once that I'd been dragged along."
Grace For Drowning
zydratexpeddler:
inlucisabsentiam:
There had been so many reasons he couldn’t come. He had the money saved up. The plan to leave, but then it all came crashing down around him. Around them all. Perhaps this was how it was supposed to go. As painful as it was. They had each other now. They had Wynter. Ras couldn’t help but wonder if they would have even met their wonderful girlfriend if things had gone according to plan. That, perhaps, was the only thing he was thankful for during his time as a repo man. Even if it had been done so wrong.
Pale eyes studied his face as he apologized. Closing his eyes as their foreheads pressed together. “Don’t. Clarence. Don’t apologize. We didn’t know. You didn’t know.” He murmured, running fingers through the long tresses. “You would have died. You would have been taken away in a much more painful way.” Ras shifted, pressing a kiss to his lips.
“We have each other now. We have Wynter. One big, happy family. Just like we always said it would be.”
Considering how it was that they all met... perhaps no, they wouldn't have met her, if their original plan had actually taken shape. But all of them, all three of them had known pain an loneliness in those years without one another. Maybe that was why they all meshed together so well now. Why it all worked for them in such a balance. As much as it hurt, they all needed the lives they lived, to have what they had now. He hated to rest things on fate -- but that's just the way it seemed to be, when it came to Ras and Wyn. Everything had happened precisely as it needed to, they all needed their scars, their pasts, their pain, in order to have that understanding, support, and acceptance that they all had now.
He closed his eyes tighter, as Ras told him not to apologize. Feeling the fingers so loving in his hair, he tried to keep his composure. Because it was true. His father had truly lost it. There was that high possibility that he might've done something to him. Sent him away. Cleansed him in whatever means to purify him from his sins...And they'd never have been able to see one another again. Growing up in the same town, same roads... so close, but so far. That would've been worse. That ache would have destroyed him, he was certain. At least far away, there had been hope to keep him going.
"We do." He agreed, kissing him back. Softly. Reverently. In still such a shock, honestly, that they had this. That their lives had screwed them over, then led them to right were they wanted to be. Clarence's hand threaded through Ras' hair again, pulling back just a bit to get a good look at him. "I'm so glad we do."
lxvingdeadgxrl:
He probably knew it better than most, as he occupied them so frequently. He was in a position to see all sorts of horrors, know what people were capable of…of course, he had better sense than to let himself get tangled up in those horrors, or to let himself get caught. She, on the other hand, hadn’t been quite as lucky.
Oh, but she wished it was safe to return to her own flat. She wanted nothing more than to lock herself away in the familiar space, scald herself beneath a hot shower, and then crawl into her own bed, and sleep until she forgot about what had happened to her…Or better yet, wouldn’t it be lovely if she woke up just then, and found that all of this had been a horrible dream? That would be fantastic, honestly…if her run in with The Black Dog had been nothing more than a figment of her imagination, a night terror that plagued her…
But no…no, she was very much awake and that really had happened. There was no changing it, no matter how badly she wished that she could.
The young woman paused as he spoke once more, her savior offering her a place to spend the night. It likely wasn’t the most prudent of options, given that she had only just met him, though the term ‘met’ was used quite loosely. She knew nothing about him, save for the fact he’d pulled her out of that alley. No name, nothing…but honestly, he was the best chance she had at that moment.
“T-that’s….that’s v-very kind of you…” she offered softly. “T-thank you.”
Well, that was one night covered…but maybe that would be enough. She could try to gather her bearings, figure out what she was going to do.
He nodded a little, shoving he bit of sticky bun into his mouth and chewing. With his clean hand, he pushed the bag towards her -- knowing that she needed to eat more than he did. She may not have wanted the food, but the sugar would do her well to keep her going at least, once the adrenaline crashed. Because it would. And hard.
Licking his fingers, he watched out the window for a moment, trying to decide what was best to say in any of this. Was there really anything to say? Nothing would really make it any better. It had happened, and she was dealing with the aftermath. Silence lapsed over for a moment or two more, before he finally looked over to her again.
"Want to just get out of here?" Nothing said they had to sit in public and pretend like everything was okay. It wasn't. It wouldn't be for a bit. And he knew that, respected that, and wanted her to feel like she had somewhere safe to grieve that, too. She could stay as long as she needed -- he'd even go get her some stuff if she wanted and trusted him to do so. Or she could just borrow his... even if it'd all be big on her. He didn't mind. Hell, in a really terrible kind of way, it might actually be kind of nice to have someone else around. It was lonely as fuck sometimes. And maybe, she'd feel that way too. Not that he was some kind of savior... but just that comfort of knowing that she wasn't alone...
lxvingdeadgxrl:
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