misterscalpel

[misterscalpel]

Perhaps. :)

You do know that breaches in security get reported to the higher ups, right?

You do know such flimsy confines will never conatain a being such as me, do you not? Please, but a bite. I won't do anything too hard freund.

[misterscalpel]

OOC : PSA for Outlast Ask Blog Owner

When you receive an anon ask from an OC, and it sounds out of character, always make sure it was sent by the OC owner and not a fake anon.

I received someone disguised their harassment in RP AND Using my friend's OC. It's always safe to double-check. Be wary of fake asking using someone's oc

I know Gabby from my heart, and i'm a friend of her owner.

This is not how her character is written and i have recieve an confirmation that my friend did not send this

[misterscalpel]

I am always on my best behavior Freund.

You do know that breaches in security get reported to the higher ups, right?

You do know such flimsy confines will never conatain a being such as me, do you not? Please, but a bite. I won't do anything too hard freund.

[misterscalpel]

”Hi, I heard you’re a doctor… um… what’s medical school like in Germany? I was set to go to nursing school here in America before I messed up, haha…”

-Selene

((her ass has not read all of his files lmao))

You wanted to become a nurse? How albern. You must understand that medicine is much more demanding than most people realize. Die Berufung einer Frau besteht einfach darin, ein Kunstwerk zu sein und nicht in einem Bereich für Männer zu arbeiten. But don't feel bad, Fräulein, not everyone is cut out for it. Some are, Medical school in Germany? It's painful to say the least. You have to be strong, unwavering in your studies. Simply put, Wir alle haben unsere Rolle zu spielen, und vielleicht war Ihre Rolle nie eine andere, als Leuten wie mir zu helfen. Das verstehen Sie doch, oder? Echte Arbeit erfordert eine gewisse Note. Etwas, wofür man nicht geboren wurde. Eine Frau wie Sie sollte sich hinsetzen und vielleicht versuchen, ihre Schönheit erblühen zu lassen, anstatt zu zerbröckeln.

[misterscalpel]

you need to be put in a müller sized sandwich bag

It's Quite uncomfortable, Yet thank you freund?

[misterscalpel]

I wouldn't bite too hard. Verspeche.

You do know that breaches in security get reported to the higher ups, right?

You do know such flimsy confines will never conatain a being such as me, do you not? Please, but a bite. I won't do anything too hard freund.

[misterscalpel]

Violation this, violation that. Sie alle hassen einfach einen Mann, der sich gesund ernährt.

You do know that breaches in security get reported to the higher ups, right?

You do know such flimsy confines will never conatain a being such as me, do you not? Please, but a bite. I won't do anything too hard freund.

[misterscalpel]

You do know that breaches in security get reported to the higher ups, right?

You do know such flimsy confines will never conatain a being such as me, do you not? Please, but a bite. I won't do anything too hard freund.

[misterscalpel]

Well go on, I'll consider it. I cannot promise anything Freund.

doctor. sorry about the brick the other day. but i've got a deal for you. willing to hear me out?

You do realize how much that hurt? I'm quite unsure you are in a place to make deals, considering your place in this facility and your actions, don't you, liebster Freund?

[misterscalpel]

doctor. sorry about the brick the other day. but i've got a deal for you. willing to hear me out?

You do realize how much that hurt? I'm quite unsure you are in a place to make deals, considering your place in this facility and your actions, don't you, liebster Freund?

[misterscalpel]

The brick connected with an unpalatable sound of a thud, pain exploding through Hans's skull. He staggered back, disoriented, fingers clawing at the air as he fought to maintain balance. The warmth of blood trickled down his temple, blending with the lingering taste of Morgan’s blood still lingering on his tongue. Hans was clutching his head as pain radiated through him like wildfire.

Hans raised his head, his gaze shifting frequently as he attempted to concentrate on Morgan. "Du dreckiger Junge." Hans hissed, his words tinged with anger. He no longer sounded composed. Not in the least. As he attempted to claw himself up, his demeanor appeared to deteriorate even further.

this was a bad idea, and he knew it. unfortunately morgan has nothing but bad ideas, and everyone around him (including himself) had to suffer for it. he should chuck a brick into the freak's face and run while he still had the chance, but he's committed to this now and nothing can change his mind. not even the arrow he'd taken to the back of his leg earlier - which, he was pretty sure was still bleeding a little. great.

regardless of it all the reagent stands across from müller, looking utterly unafraid (though internally he certainly was,) and furrows his brows. " well, doctor? you want me to try and get that off you or not? " a brief gesture to the muzzle that sets over his face.

The German's eyes narrowed; he looked down at the arrow and then up at Morgans's face. A smirk was barely visible on his cheeks as he tilted his head for a second. Hans was scanning Morgan’s wounded leg again before meeting his gaze, his goggles a faint orange that seemed foggy, covering his gaze if not for the light allowing visibility of at least one eye.

"You're bleeding, Freund, aren't you?" Hans hissed through his teeth, voice muffled but still carrying an unsettling calm as his eyes looked back down to Morgan's leg before continuing.

"Oh, You would take this dreaded thing off for me? Yes, yes... remove it bitte." Hans leaned in slightly as he spoke, a part of him feeling such joy over the idea of being freed from such a restraint.

His hands twitched with impatience, gesturing toward the muzzle as he continued "You are a man of your word. Ich kann nicht versprechen, dass Sie das noch einmal tun möchten." He chuckled slightly after that, turning to allow access to the back of his muzzle, using his right arm to move the hair that covered the muzzle's small lock mechanisms. The lock was simple, visibly to just deter others from wanting to do so. It looked as if it would be easily broken.

[misterscalpel]

OOC

Reblog if you are okay with people pestering your characters about literally anything

[misterscalpel]

// i wanna interact with more oc blogs but at the same time im. lowkey spending more time reading the lore rather than sending actualy asks (i get too nervous and dk whether to rp ic in their asks or not (it feels awkward but i'll do it anyway))

[misterscalpel]

Hans gazed at Morgan, a mix of appetite and schadenfreude on his face, watching every trace of fear that backstabs Morgan's attempts at composure—only for the invitation, the pleading, to catch him off guard. When Morgan leans into the touch, almost inviting him closer, a soft chuckle escapes his throat, smooth yet chilling. His lips curve into a smile, the attempt at calmness in his voice betraying how close he is to losing the fragile restraint. He can discern the tremor in Morgan's voice, the reluctance and trepidation audible. "Ah, so eager, so willing," Hans murmurs, his voice a quiet hiss, the soft cadence of his accent curling the remarks like a dagger. His thumb trails down Morgan's cheek, leaving a streak of blood in its path as he leans in a little closer, their faces inches apart. "Ah, you seem to understand—of course you do, it's simple enough. But truly grasping it? That’s something rarer, isn’t it, mein Liebster Freund?" Hans sneers, though he seems to be falling for the snare put in place. As Morgan grabs the back of his head, guiding him closer to the bleeding wound, offering himself up like prey, Hans’s breath hitches for a moment. The scent of blood is intoxicating, and the invitation stirs something primal in him. His lips hover over the wound, the warmth radiating from the fresh bite. "Du führst mich so freizügig in Versuchung, Lieber Freund," Hans hisses through his teeth, his voice low and almost mocking. "I think I’ll savor this." He pauses, relishing the power he believes he holds before whispering against the wound, "Don’t worry. I’ll make all that pain disappear." He leans in closer, about to bite the wound again. His breath, hot against the skin beneath him. Hans slowly opens his jaw in preparation for the bite—his "Lieber Freund" was offering himself up, so the least he could do was provide a little relief, though the nature of that relief was quite obvious as to what it has meant.

this was a bad idea, and he knew it. unfortunately morgan has nothing but bad ideas, and everyone around him (including himself) had to suffer for it. he should chuck a brick into the freak's face and run while he still had the chance, but he's committed to this now and nothing can change his mind. not even the arrow he'd taken to the back of his leg earlier - which, he was pretty sure was still bleeding a little. great.

regardless of it all the reagent stands across from müller, looking utterly unafraid (though internally he certainly was,) and furrows his brows. " well, doctor? you want me to try and get that off you or not? " a brief gesture to the muzzle that sets over his face.

The German's eyes narrowed; he looked down at the arrow and then up at Morgans's face. A smirk was barely visible on his cheeks as he tilted his head for a second. Hans was scanning Morgan’s wounded leg again before meeting his gaze, his goggles a faint orange that seemed foggy, covering his gaze if not for the light allowing visibility of at least one eye.

"You're bleeding, Freund, aren't you?" Hans hissed through his teeth, voice muffled but still carrying an unsettling calm as his eyes looked back down to Morgan's leg before continuing.

"Oh, You would take this dreaded thing off for me? Yes, yes... remove it bitte." Hans leaned in slightly as he spoke, a part of him feeling such joy over the idea of being freed from such a restraint.

His hands twitched with impatience, gesturing toward the muzzle as he continued "You are a man of your word. Ich kann nicht versprechen, dass Sie das noch einmal tun möchten." He chuckled slightly after that, turning to allow access to the back of his muzzle, using his right arm to move the hair that covered the muzzle's small lock mechanisms. The lock was simple, visibly to just deter others from wanting to do so. It looked as if it would be easily broken.

[misterscalpel]

do you like dress to impress? I think you'd be a CYYYUUUUUTE little Hatsune Miku

What is this, dress to impress? What–What are you talking about freund?

[misterscalpel]

Hans felt the taste of blood still fresh on his lips, the warmth coursing through his senses like an obscure drug. His body quivered, fingers twitching as he savored the moment. Hans reveled in the fear radiating from Morgan, intoxicating, sending shivers down his spine as if feeding off of it. The yelp had been specifically touching, a burst of raw panic that hung in the air prolonged enough for Hans to breathe it in like a high-quality perfume. He leaned closer, his jagged teeth stained with the fresh taste of blood from his recent bite, the metallic tang still present on his tongue.

“Ah, Freund...Liebster Freund." he hissed, his voice dripping with amusement, his breath heavy with the intoxication of the blood.

“Shh, shh,” Hans cooed, the mockery evident in his voice. He moved his head closer to the bite wound he had caused, prodding at it slightly with his tongue again before continuing.

“Don’t you understand, Freund? You chose this, ja? You wanted to free me from such pitiful binds.” His breath was hot against Morgan’s ear as he pulled up slightly, his words deliberate, each laced with an edge of impure joy in the reactions.

“And it was delicious, Freund.” His voice lowers to a whisper, the smile never fading from his torn lips. “I could stop here, let you walk away with just this… but the truth is, it’s been too long since I’ve tasted something so alive. I'm sure you understand.”

Hans pulled back slightly, just enough to lock eyes with Morgan, the faint orange glow from his goggles was prominent. He tilted his head slightly, his face having a mocking frown. "Look at you, So brave. Or should I say so töricht? Who knows." His grip lightened as he picked up his hand from morgans wrist gently–almost too gently, considering the circumstances. Hans moved slowly as he brought his digits to Morgan's cheek, his thumb gently brushing across it, leaving a faint red stain against the face under him; it was like a work of art to him, just a canvas under his grip, the only paint being the red gore which he loved oh so much.

“You are trembling, mein Liebster Freund,” Hans whispered, savoring each quirk he noticed. “Is it the pain? Or is it the thought–" He paused, taking a moment to put together his words. "the thought of what would be left of you?”

this was a bad idea, and he knew it. unfortunately morgan has nothing but bad ideas, and everyone around him (including himself) had to suffer for it. he should chuck a brick into the freak's face and run while he still had the chance, but he's committed to this now and nothing can change his mind. not even the arrow he'd taken to the back of his leg earlier - which, he was pretty sure was still bleeding a little. great.

regardless of it all the reagent stands across from müller, looking utterly unafraid (though internally he certainly was,) and furrows his brows. " well, doctor? you want me to try and get that off you or not? " a brief gesture to the muzzle that sets over his face.

The German's eyes narrowed; he looked down at the arrow and then up at Morgans's face. A smirk was barely visible on his cheeks as he tilted his head for a second. Hans was scanning Morgan’s wounded leg again before meeting his gaze, his goggles a faint orange that seemed foggy, covering his gaze if not for the light allowing visibility of at least one eye.

"You're bleeding, Freund, aren't you?" Hans hissed through his teeth, voice muffled but still carrying an unsettling calm as his eyes looked back down to Morgan's leg before continuing.

"Oh, You would take this dreaded thing off for me? Yes, yes... remove it bitte." Hans leaned in slightly as he spoke, a part of him feeling such joy over the idea of being freed from such a restraint.

His hands twitched with impatience, gesturing toward the muzzle as he continued "You are a man of your word. Ich kann nicht versprechen, dass Sie das noch einmal tun möchten." He chuckled slightly after that, turning to allow access to the back of his muzzle, using his right arm to move the hair that covered the muzzle's small lock mechanisms. The lock was simple, visibly to just deter others from wanting to do so. It looked as if it would be easily broken.

[misterscalpel]

I have to ask: what do you put in your tea? It has a... Unique taste. Not bad. Unique.

- 🎻

you noticed, did you? Wie aufmerksam. It is an old family recipe, with some slight additions. A little something to add vitality to the brew is all, Blood is rich in iron, after all—good for the body to have new Blood anyhow. Ja? Perhaps you prefer cups with a more personal touch Alexei? I don't mind sharing