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OKAY.

So, I'm back with these babies!

If you want a starter, LIKE THIS! Specify a muse, or I'll just choose someone random. Thanks!

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Beth is the first to notice Šćřãťčh's stare, and even more so to become somewhat ALARMED by it. Teller was happy to just lean there on the bar, act oblivious, and FINALLY quiete down to an appropriate level. Penn was still talking over there ( always demanding the room's attention ) , but it was no longer intrusive.

Teller's attention was snatched by his female companion, who voiced her mild concern, and a grin overtook his face once more. He found it far too humerus to just stop, though his plan WASN'T to steal the thing. He didn't want Šćřãťčh walking out without it. The chances of them meeting again was exceptionally slim.

So instead he POLITELY gestured the Herald over with his hand, grin now an acceptable smile as those acting skills came into play. He was having far too much fun ( and perhaps the possibility of getting Beth into some trouble didn't help ) .

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“Of course. I always forget that different mediums require varying amounts of attention and care.” Penn nodded and reflected on the books that he read - poems, classic literature, even the more modern… within reason. He never did find much of the modern stuff all too INTERESTING.

“You’re not bothering us,” He dismissed, and Teller shook his head in PERFECT synchronisation with his partner, “Thank you for coming to the show. If you need us at any point before we disappear to our room, don’t hesitate to call us out or come find us, alright?” Stated as he shook Mr. Šćřãťčh’s hand.

Teller returned it next, grinning, “Thank you for YOUR time, Mr. Wake,” Always one for kindness OUT of tricks, though always mischievous. The man had managed to remove The Herald’s watch undetected, grinning up at Penn. He’d keep a hold of it until sought out or, should Šćřãťčh not notice, they were to leave. He had no intention of stealing it.

He also had another patron’s wallet.

Beth wasn’t inclined to approach the writer, so, she was lucky in that regard. The magician wasn’t all too find of starting social interactions, only recently ( a few years or so ) had she become ENTIRELY comfortable with doing everything on stage. Not much nervousness these days. Didn’t help her out of the spotlight, though.

Ordering a straight whiskey, striking a conversation with the bartender, she paid no real attention to anyone around. There was no need, and unless you were specifically looking for a short, suit wearing, red stained hand woman, she’d go unnoticed. Didn’t stop her glancing back at Penn and Teller who abruptly laughed, though.

Teller approached, still laughing, and tried in between patches of hysterics to explain what was so Goddamn funny. All in vain, and his mischievous, perhaps a step too far plan, was pushed further into open water as he slipped Šćřãťčh’s watch into her pocket. Perfect! Not a hitch, and if anything, it made him laugh harder.

Being who he was, he offered everyone watching a raised hand of apology. COINCIDENTALLY ignoring Šćřãťčh as to not raise awareness.

    The Herald knew better but it still caught his attention, the two suited magicians walking into the bar– making a ruckus? Yeah, how the hell was that not gonna get his attention? Well, he sighed, looked down at his drink, swirling it and all… trying to act casual, but the side-eyes he was shooting at the trio was impossible to ignore. This wasn’t how he imagined it, the hunt was supposed to be easier, the prey tended to walk to him more often than not– but it seems it was too preoccupied with the buffer of those two buffoons. Surely, he admired them seconds ago, but the noise they were making now– well, mostly one of them– was getting on his nerves.

      S͞cr͢at͡c̛h sighed, looking at the countertop, blankly, before deciding to check the time. The concept of it all was hard to get used to, the fact that it all functioned on a 24-hour basis and all, that the sun even dared to come up was insulting enough…but the embracement of it all disgusted him further. So he looked at his wrist, lacking in its accessory. He stopped, staring blankly before raising his eyes trying to figure out just where in the hell did he leave his god damn watch.

    The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t take it off. Ever. The damn thing was barely ever watched of blood, at least not perfectly. So whoever finds it, is probably gonna be confused as hell. Great. The Herald facepalms for a second, before dropping his arm and chugging down the drink. He’s about to head out then when it occurs to him… he thinks he knows where it went. So instead, he chooses to glare at the trio of magicians from his spot at the bar. Bastards…

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"I overheard some others talking about him. Something about how he... stalks, and that's how he gets his swiftness." She explained as best she could, gazing at Ash as he explained his predicament out of this realm before abruptly looking down. Perhaps staring ( seemingly so ) wasn't the best course of action when speaking about such a topic.

"Oh, I'm... I'm sorry you come from there." An apology which held no weight, obviously, and she nodded to herself briefly. "I'm a, uh, a famous? Magician where I come from. Silent mainly, and I tend to work with Penn and Teller a lot. So.. the most I deal with is a running gag where I get killed or hurt - all fake, of course. Except the times where I've cut myself or the like when juggling knives or whatever."

She gratefully accepted the needle, glad to NOT have to thread it herself. Lord knows how shitty that's turn out. She gave a nod of understanding, lips quirking into a smile before he continued. "Oh." Was all she could offer for a moment. "Then... that hand really is fake? It's exceptionally well done. Who made it?"

She abruptly inhaled a sharp, pained breath. Her arm twitched, but she WILLED it to stay as still as possible. It stung like a bitch, and if she didn't have experience in the matter, her reaction would've been much worse than just a sharp inhale. "Thank you."

Squeaked slightly, yes, she was about to start stitching before he spoke up. She blinked, internal debate deciding whether or not she should take him up on the offer. They were as clueless as each other, and the entity rewarded teamwork, did it not?

"I-I mean, sure," The needle was extended back Ash's way, and the much shorter woman smiled politely. "Knock yourself out, mate. You have the experience, no?"

campfire woes

[unrxly-magxc-blog]

OKAY.

So, I'm back with these babies!

If you want a starter, LIKE THIS! Specify a muse, or I'll just choose someone random. Thanks!

[unrxly-magxc-blog]

{ Send “how are you alive” for your character to discover mine doing something really stupid }

[unrxly-magxc-blog]

Hello, lovelies!

I'll get to replies later today when I'm less flustered and the muses can cooperate. Sorry for the wait!

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Ah. The question; WHY NOT THAT ONE.

Always a humorous thing for Penn, and equally as so for Teller ( who was stood quietly beside the more rambunctious one of the two ) . He was watching closely, making sure Penn's sleight of hand was exceptional lest he step in and save the day.

"It'll explode and K I L L us all if you touch that card, which isn't ideal UNLESS you particularly want that." The cards were re-fanned, "Pick a card, my man."

"Okay, you can pick a card, any card, and if I guess it, then there'll be a great trick to follow! ... any card, /but/ that one." || Hello from these babies, from Penn!

"Why not that one?" Charley squints at the man, hand hovering over the cards. Close up magic like this was an absolute mystery, pickpocking was a science. "....will it explode?"

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nonverbal starters prompts featuring nonverbal scenarios.

guide take them by the hand, arm, or shoulder to guide them.

shelter protect them.

shove push them.

loop drape an arm around their shoulders.

touch a gentle touch like rubbing their back, hugging them, holding their hand. 

kiss a kiss on the cheek, knuckles, forehead, in their hair.

palm smack them upside the head.

bed rest gently push them back down when they try getting out of bed.

aid help them with a task.

note pass a note to them.

cry wipe away their tears.

wash wipe something off their forehead, cheek, so on.

bandage patch them up when they get hurt.

heal take care of them when they get sick.

book silently read a story with them. 

carry pick them up. 

scrap punch them.

cherry find blood on them.

sit help them sit down.  

medical wake up in the hospital and find them holding their hand.

steer place a hand under their chin to make them look up. 

beat dance with them.

stare stare them down. 

off track get lost with them.

no shaking their head in disagreement. 

yes nodding their head in agreement.

rush tackle them to the ground.

open hold the door open for them.

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"Of course. I always forget that different mediums require varying amounts of attention and care." Penn nodded and reflected on the books that he read - poems, classic literature, even the more modern... within reason. He never did find much of the modern stuff all too INTERESTING.

"You're not bothering us," He dismissed, and Teller shook his head in PERFECT synchronisation with his partner, "Thank you for coming to the show. If you need us at any point before we disappear to our room, don't hesitate to call us out or come find us, alright?" Stated as he shook Mr. Šćřãťčh's hand.

Teller returned it next, grinning, "Thank you for YOUR time, Mr. Wake," Always one for kindness OUT of tricks, though always mischievous. The man had managed to remove The Herald's watch undetected, grinning up at Penn. He'd keep a hold of it until sought out or, should Šćřãťčh not notice, they were to leave. He had no intention of stealing it.

He also had another patron's wallet.

Beth wasn't inclined to approach the writer, so, she was lucky in that regard. The magician wasn't all too find of starting social interactions, only recently ( a few years or so ) had she become ENTIRELY comfortable with doing everything on stage. Not much nervousness these days. Didn't help her out of the spotlight, though.

Ordering a straight whiskey, striking a conversation with the bartender, she paid no real attention to anyone around. There was no need, and unless you were specifically looking for a short, suit wearing, red stained hand woman, she'd go unnoticed. Didn't stop her glancing back at Penn and Teller who abruptly laughed, though.

Teller approached, still laughing, and tried in between patches of hysterics to explain what was so Goddamn funny. All in vain, and his mischievous, perhaps a step too far plan, was pushed further into open water as he slipped Šćřãťčh's watch into her pocket. Perfect! Not a hitch, and if anything, it made him laugh harder.

Being who he was, he offered everyone watching a raised hand of apology. COINCIDENTALLY ignoring Šćřãťčh as to not raise awareness.

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Ah! So Beth w a s right! The smile that graced her face was surely just as sudden as Šçřăťćh’s and, no doubt, just as… odd. Granted, his lasted a stretch too long to be unnoticed, and Teller most certainly saw the look within his eye - he felt more bad for the guy than anything.

“Oh, well, uh, I’m a big fan,” She spoke, a slight squint to her eyes, “You’ve gotten some good works out there, Mr. Wake, and, well…… thanks.” Ah. There was a reason Beth was a SILENT MAGICIAN, and it could be presumed that the fumbling, awkward, and somewhat hesitant small ranting was a reason for it. Anxiety and social situations were hard to grasp and control. She was an internal mess.

Truth be told, his books had become somewhat of a comfort for Beth. On the days where mental illness creeped up, when nobody could drag her from her house, she’d read. Not magic books. Rarely magic books. Something of a coping method, she supposed. And, judging from Penn’s sudden warm smile as he removed his glasses, he knew it all too well.

Her hands snaked into her suit pants pockets, for she had changed bloodied shirt and tie but not pants ( there was no need! ) , and she felt around for the THREE OF CLUBS housed within her pocket. Had she tossed it instead? How upsetting.

“…it’s my pleasure, really,” Yet she continued, taking a side step from Penn’s grip and to Teller, “I’m going to get a drink, if you need me, just call me over or something.” A last smile was sent to The Herald before she turned, patting Teller on the shoulder and patting Penn’s back on her way to the bar.

“What a girl, huh?” Penn half joked, smile returning, “We appreciate you being here, boss. But aren’t you having writer’s block? Shouldn’t you be at home, trying to write or something?” Or was he misunderstanding? “Is there anything we could do to help you while you’re here? Unless, of course, the show is all you needed.”

     ❝Always a pleasure to meet a fan, the only reason to keep me going after all.❞ Perhaps going as far as a list of future victims; playing into their blind trust for their idol was always fun. And Alan didn’t seem to mind. The Herald looked Beth over, again, noting the shift of the man standing next to her and how it didn’t seem pleasing. Interesting. But nothing he’d have too much intent into fixing. The horrors that were such as this were not his forte, but also – they were not something he cared much more beyond observing. Normal, surface world human behavior was repulsing in many forms of itself. Really, maybe letting the darkness take the world would have been an improvement? 

    He considered how to end this conversation the moment she said she’d hit the bar, his sudden desire for alcohol kicking in full force itself. Rumors and rumors, most based on truth in some way, anyhow. But what can one do? Beth walks away, and  S͞cr͢at͡c̛h returned his eyes to the taller of the two men. 

    ❝The writing process is more complicated than that, it takes time to get it to work. Can’t really force it out.❞ It sounded honest, but he was thinking of the writer at that moment. Just how stubbornly he rejected to do as told, but with time– it’ll work. What the double needed was patience and time, both things he didn’t have. But this wasn’t time to get upset over Alan Wake being one of the most mulish men on planet earth. 

      ❝Anyways, it certainly sounds like you’re tired of me.❞ He chuckles, redirecting his eyes to Teller.❝Thank you for your time.❞ Niceties were an annoyance, but they took you a long way. He then offered his hand to shake to one then the other after it was done. With that, he went looking for the bar. 

     He quite casually took the turn to the every alcoholics haven, walking as if none of it mattered and the conversation prior didn’t happen. At least– he surely wasn’t hoping to bother the poor woman any further. Not that he cared lots for her, but he just couldn’t muster up larger care at that moment due to her part of the show. If she approaches him, for whatever insane reason– then she is fair game. A mistake on her own accord, but he wasn’t betting on it. For now, he might just consider getting another ticket for next nights show, just to take notes.

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Like for a starter! Comment for a specific muse, or get someone random!

[unrxly-magxc-blog]

“What, is that a conspiracy theory?” for anyone?

Late Nights Starters!

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"A ' CONSPIRACY THEORY ' ?!"

"Flat earth has FOLLOWERS! People who genuinely believe it! Even IF the earth was flat, WHICH IT FUCKING ISN'T, it makes no geographical or physical sense! It's BULLSHIT!"

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“I wish it could always be like this.”

“You’re always there for me.”

“The stars are the only thing that makes sense.”

“There’s more out there, you just have to be patient.”

“It doesn’t all have to be existential dread.” 

“You’re so much different when we’re alone.”

“I like it when the worlds quiet.” 

“There’s a place for us somewhere.”

“They’ll name constellations after you one day.”

“Your hearts beating so fast.”

“They don’t know what they want.”

“You don’t know what you want.”

“That’s what they’re supposed to say.”

“We really don’t know what we’re doing.”

“I miss the old you.”

“Nostalgias a trap.”

“Aliens are out there.”

“Did you hear that?”

“I really want pizza right now, think it’s open?” 

“What time is it?”

“But why would they abduct cows?”

“We’ll all be dead soon enough anyways.” 

“I wish we didn’t have to sleep.”

“What do you believe in?”

“What happens after we die?”

“Seems like a silly thing to say, don’t you think?” 

“And what’s your excuse?”

“You’ll get it together soon.”

“Sometimes I feel like I’ll never have it together.”

“It’d be better if people weren’t so afraid of their feelings.”

“You keep quiet and we both lose.”

“I wish I could save this forever.”

“When did you realize you were in love with me?”

“The rooms spinning.”

“I loved you long before you knew.”

“I’m not afraid of death, I think it’ll be peaceful.”

“The Universe is too big for that.”

“Do you think we’ve met in other lives?” 

“I’d come back to haunt you.” 

“Would you come back to haunt me?”

“What’s alternate universe you doing right now?”

“Tell me a secret.”

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” 

“I wish we knew each other sooner.”

“You’re a game changer.” 

“I’m a game changer.”

“Don’t ignore fate.” 

“Ignorance isn’t bliss.”

“What, is that a conspiracy theory?”

“It’s probably the Illuminati anyways.” 

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* ∘ ∙ — misc sentence starters (pt 2)

“give me a fucking break.”

“you’re the bees’ knees”

“i don’t need sex—the government fucks me over every day”

“confusing reality with dreams and having false memories is kinda my thing”

“kinda want a milkshake, kinda wanna fade away”

“what a motherfucker. what a tool.”

“who thinks they can find me & win?”

“eat my ass, spirits”

“i want to punch god in the face”

“rise & grind baby let’s eat today’s ass”

“i-is this allowed?”

“my objective in life is to dethrone god & destroy capitalism”

“excuse me but what the fuck?”

“this is so sad alexa play despacito”

“yeah, i like ass. After School Snacks”

“do i look like i know what a jpeg is”

“whom talking about vore?”

“words can’t hurt me these shades are gucci”

“this ramen is my girlfriend”

“all i do is drink water & be stupid”

“im a brat??? okay and??? i know??? next argument???”

“i’m just gradually becoming a disaster”

“check yourself before you shrek yourself”

“i don’t have to be drunk or high to make bad life descisions”

“aw hell yeah”

“don’t try it, demon”

“the dangers of being too cool: an autobiography”

“man, i can’t go in there. i’ve got all that stuff”

“whoever stole my cactus you’re a piece of shit”

“young, dumb & full of existential dread”

“why is being alive so expensive. i’m not even having a good time”

“oh yeah? i’ve got five words for you. please be nice to me”

“i was late cause i followed this one dog three blocks in the wrong direction”

“hate your job? try astral projection”

“alexa play africa by toto”

“all i can make is cold cereal & maybe toast.”

“i never know what’s going on & i believe it’s very sexy of me to be like that”

“i am very small & i have no money. so you can imagine the kind of stress that i’m under.”

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‘that wasn’t even the question!’

FAVE MB.MBAM BITS (PT1) SENTENCE STARTERS.

---

"..."

It wasn't?

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Ah! So Beth w a s right! The smile that graced her face was surely just as sudden as Šçřăťćh’s and, no doubt, just as… odd. Granted, his lasted a stretch too long to be unnoticed, and Teller most certainly saw the look within his eye - he felt more bad for the guy than anything.

“Oh, well, uh, I’m a big fan,” She spoke, a slight squint to her eyes, “You’ve gotten some good works out there, Mr. Wake, and, well…… thanks.” Ah. There was a reason Beth was a SILENT MAGICIAN, and it could be presumed that the fumbling, awkward, and somewhat hesitant small ranting was a reason for it. Anxiety and social situations were hard to grasp and control. She was an internal mess.

Truth be told, his books had become somewhat of a comfort for Beth. On the days where mental illness creeped up, when nobody could drag her from her house, she’d read. Not magic books. Rarely magic books. Something of a coping method, she supposed. And, judging from Penn’s sudden warm smile as he removed his glasses, he knew it all too well.

Her hands snaked into her suit pants pockets, for she had changed bloodied shirt and tie but not pants ( there was no need! ) , and she felt around for the THREE OF CLUBS housed within her pocket. Had she tossed it instead? How upsetting.

“…it’s my pleasure, really,” Yet she continued, taking a side step from Penn’s grip and to Teller, “I’m going to get a drink, if you need me, just call me over or something.” A last smile was sent to The Herald before she turned, patting Teller on the shoulder and patting Penn’s back on her way to the bar.

“What a girl, huh?” Penn half joked, smile returning, “We appreciate you being here, boss. But aren’t you having writer’s block? Shouldn’t you be at home, trying to write or something?” Or was he misunderstanding? “Is there anything we could do to help you while you’re here? Unless, of course, the show is all you needed.”

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“We’re always happy to lend others a hand, but remember: don’t ACTUALLY do this.” A pause, head tilting briefly before he continued, “Unless someone double dog dares you, and you must n e v e r turn that down, UNLESS you’re a chicken.” His version of a joke, for in Penn’s mind nobody could ever be capable of truly attempting their tricks. Why would they? That would be a hard feat to accomplish.

Penn’s left hand moved to place over his chest, roughly at his heart; bracelets and singular painted nail glinting in the artifical lighting of the theater lobby drew attention from the fact that he was honoured. Such compliments, especially regarding THAT side of their magic. His hand promptly returned to her shoulder, however.

“It’s a creative process Teller and I tend to spend a little too long on, admittedly.”

“Magic is often someone spending too long to master something nobody else would dare.” Teller spoke abruptly, kind smile remaining as he nodded, seemingly satisfied in his own explanation.

“I don’t know what to tell you to make it all too interesting. We just have gallons upon gallons of fake blood and the three of clubs, and see how it goes from there.” Penn reached up to remove his round glasses, halting as Beth’s head tilted into his remaining hand and Teller stepped back ( had he been whispering to her? ) .

“This may seem odd, and forgive me, but are you Alan Wake by any chance? You look strikingly similar to him, and in that case, what are you doing at our show? Again, sorry if it’s out of line.”

     Mr. S͞cr͢at͡c̛h nods, smirking, well aware of the possible innocence in comparison when it comes to him. He had gone through many ways of killing a person, but all of them felt so mundane when in comparison to these he just saw. The torture, the jokes– it was fantastic. He truly enjoyed himself so so much. These might actually warrant an effort of trying them out as they were far more unique than what he’s seen in movies. 

     Hearing the other guy talk– Teller– the Herald nodded once more, showing for once that he was in fact listening. This was quite the idea– he always figured it was more like his own process… which was being left alone to his devices with not much else better to do. Having spent a good portion of his so-called “life” doing nothing but killing and fighting TAKEN and animals for his own survival, really warmed him up to actually do that to people… which he found to enjoy much more. The added challenge of a shadowy being was never a positive addition, it just provided so much… struggle.

    The Herald contemplates for a minute or so, what to say and what not. On one hand– he easily could deny it and be an absolute ghost, on the other– he could continue to drag the writer’s name through the dirt. Knowing him, it was obvious towards what he leaned to. He smiled politely, then, and shook his head before it broke into another toothy grin. 

   ❝Of course, I am! I mean, really, pal – not a copy of this face in sight ever.❞ He jestest, followed by a chuckle. It’s more amusing to him than anybody else– Alan still stuck in the dark place, running the same damn circle. Probably for eternity. He gets lost in thought there for a bit… He snaps out of it soon enough, hoping his shallow eyes were not a point of notice and that his grin didn’t last into awkwardness. 

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MY  FAVE  MB.MBAM  BITS  (PT1)  SENTENCE  STARTERS.

these sentence starters are not experts, and their advice should never be followed. also, this sentence meme isn’t for kids, which i mention only so the babies out there know how cool they are for reblogging. what’s up, you cool baby?

‘does anybody know how to curse a real sword?’

‘does he wanna curse a nerf sword?’

‘can i ask what’s bothering you about this?’

‘it seems like you’re upset about literally every word in this sentence.’

‘what did you want to happen to the real sword?’

‘i see that you have a real sword that you brought with you.’

‘can you enchant a real sword?’

‘what kind of enchantment are you wanting?’

‘that wasn’t even the question!’

‘… why did it increase?’

‘are you gonna curse this fucking sword for me or what?’

‘i will, if you keep your voice down.’

‘i also need you to buy some of these unicorn figurines.’ 

‘as long as it is not… ah, gosh, i can’t even say it.’

‘why can’t you just walk into a store, take something and walk out? like, who is going to stop you? you could just walk in, take whatever and go out, as long as it doesn’t have one of those things that make the alarms go off on it.’

‘if no one sees you, then you’re good.’

‘i’ve never shoplifted anything in my life.’

‘you’re not exactly pink panther-ing this shit.’

‘i’m a fucking adult and they have no legal authority over me.’

‘are you implying that all of capitalism is just a smokescreen, and we only do it because we think we have to do it?’

‘you’re not my dad, like, later.’

‘they can’t touch me, that’s for fucking sure. it’s like haunted house rules.’

‘he’s not gonna fucking shoot me.’

‘he is not a cop, later dog. later.’

‘peta called the cops on the furry convention?’

‘i can’t arrest a fucking dog.’

‘HOLD UP! YO! YO YO YO! FURRIES CAN DO INFINITE CRIME!’

‘what are you talking about? that’s a big dog.’

‘nice try, that’s a panda.’

‘we call it the safety zone, that’s the spider-free castle.’

‘so you have brought approximately two hundred thousand spiders into my home.’

‘here’s an interesting thought: actually, fuck this!’

‘let’s always have at least two spider cups open at the same time.’

‘you yelled! you’re the spider guy, and you yelled at it!’

‘this is not a joke. this is not a goof.’

‘please don’t touch me right now when we talk about spiders.’

‘don’t hit!’ 

‘don’t do that shit again.’

‘did you really think we were gonna find the illuminati?’

‘we can’t do easy things, and you wanted us to do a hard one?’

‘you’re a jerk person.’

‘hold on, let me look up your address in the yellow pages. oh, it says ‘a trashcan.’‘

‘you know what i like to say with doughnuts? oooooooooooooooo!’

‘you dumb piece of shit. i can’t believe we share genetic material, you make me so angry. i hate your guts!’

‘you look like a businessman with a very specific fetish.’

‘you look like the halloween costume for farts under a blanket.’

‘you look like if hepatitis was a person.’

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That whole bit P&T did on Conan with the knife throwing has me thinking.

And Beth can 100% do legit knife throwing with a human target, and she's really the type of magician to do the same kind of thing on a talk show. Throwing knives at a host, which turns out to be fake, and then having them throw a knife, again fake, at herself is a big Beth mood... except with fake blood.