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littleivy:

Malik had hesitated not sure whether to follow or not but his heart stuttered a little when he heard the cenobites words a sliver of fear around his happyness and he quickly nodded moving to the hell Priest side close than most would dare to get “Yes…. Sir? Stay by you,….don’t talk to strangers? ” he said the last bit clearly meant in a joking manner. It was something he often did when nervos and he didnt want it to show to those who would see it as weak.

                              THE LOCATION OF HIS MOTHER WAS FAR from that of a short walk -- at least from the location of the Labyrinth they had returned to. The Female Cenobite followed closely behind, eyes like DAGGERS all the while glaring over the half--angel. As soon as the three had entered the realm of Leviathan, the gateway behind them ceased to be; the only thing behind them now was a dead--end. Infront of them was a long corridor, leading to other corridors of which looked completely IDENTICAL. To those who did not belong, it could be described as a maze -- bigger than anyone could comprehend. Screams of agony and pleasure could be heard faintly in the distance, and sometimes loudly in the rooms they had past along the way. Chambers without doors would sometimes bare the satisfied moans of those indulging in each others flesh and sexual desires -- both human and Cenobite alike. They would whine, moan and scream even LOUDER as their Hell Priest seamlessly walked the halls, as if they were to be attempts of grabbing his attention. Without even turning to the boy so close to his side, the Pontifex spoke up among the noise. 

                           ``MAGNIFICENT, is it not? How one resides in such 

                                       a MONOTONOUS world such as yours is beyond me.``

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chatterbite:

                     CHАTTЄЯЄЯ acknowledges his boss; all the more happier to begin the unceremonious proceedings. Although he was not as gentle as his leader was– be it, he knew (from past experience) that his commander hardly needed to raise a finger when lacerating his victims– Chattterer chose to do things the old fashioned way; preferably, by his own hand, but with the occasional help from another Cenobite if they so called it.                       With that, his gentle caress turns into a bruising squeeze onto the girl’s wrist– with almost inhuman strength, he yanks her towards him– and she falters, grunts– and he can sense her retch at seeing his battered, tattered gums up close. The victim begs Chatterer to stop– to leave her alone completely– but the burned-Cenobite sputters incoherently in response. If the right-hand-man could have exchanged the same pleasantries such as grinning back to his leader, (with Chatterer’s embedded, barbered wire retainers yanking his mouth from either side making it all the more impossible) he surely would have lent him the pleasure of doing so. However, he had faith in his boss to know that he was indeed enjoying himself. And so, the girl whimpers as she heard the unmistakable noise of metal being unsheathed– as he yanked out his chained hooks with an accompanying clanging of metal to the floor. He twiddles the linked-metal in his own hands, relinquishing in the incredible feeling that he would be using these yet again. He sees the pre-done incisions being made above her wrists and upper arm, and so, the Chatterer decides to use these former-wounds as his targets. With her wrist upturned against her, he plunges his hooked calibur into the flesh of her appendages, drawing it down her arm to further derail the vein underneath. A quick action that even takes the girl with suprise, as she lets out a belated scream at the sudden pain– the blood quickly spilling out in hot rushes. She curses, yells, and she holds herself there as if she could close off the stream of blood just like that. The girl, although completely weakened, doesn’t go down without a fight as throws her undamaged fist at the clicking-Cenobite with her last lingering bit of strength. The Chatterer abruptly stepped back– only to hiss and bark back at her in return. Chatterer regretted not pushing the blade deeper into her so he could have still had a grappling-hold into her flesh, but alas. The spectacle truly unfolded to be quite a special one, and he hoped only now that his Leader would approve. He now brings the hook to his mouth, the metal still dripping with blood as he clattered his teeth– he passively turns his head to his lead– telepathically mulling over to his commander;                     [ Shall I finish? Or shall I subdue her further for you to do the honors? ]

                     IT WAS ALL TOO CLEAR THAT THEIR PRESENCE was one not wanted -- making the experience all the more pleasing, as it did with many other encounters. Alas, there was some repetitiveness in their duties; being summoned forth to hear the same sort of questions they had heard all too many times before -- Who are you? Why are you doing this? Are you going to kill me? It was a slight bliss that, for a change, this girl was nearly SPEECHLESS. She let her body language and emotions speak for her; fear, disgust, anger. But the Priest knew what she had come to accept -- there was nowhere to RUN. No one to take back the mistake she thought to have brought upon herself, or to witness the sensations she would soon be bombarded with in due time. It was just her, and THEM. All to themselves, to relish in her flesh. And with a look of reassurance to Chatterer as he showed his gratification, so it began -- the smell of sweet iron filled his heightened senses while his partner reopened the large gash she had once inflicted on herself some time ago. The Pontifex’s merciless eyes watched on, indulging in her screams of PAIN and TERROR. His masochistic tendencies running RABID in his mind. As of now, she was far from enjoying the suffering brought onto her -- though with their help, soon would come to be grateful for such insight. The Hell Priest continued to voyeur over such happenings, even being entertained by that of a brief SQUABBLE between the girl and his associate in her attempt to lash out at her attacker. 

The corner of the lead’s mouth slightly curled with satisfaction, ADMIRING the view of the barely--standing woman before him. It was at this moment he would hear his partner speak to him most discreetly -- but in return said nothing. Infact, his actions would speak for him. Although his intent was to offer up this one to his close friend, he felt that it was fair to give the girl a little VARIETY for now. Walking seamlessly back to their victim, on the way past her dressing table -- The Hell Priest placed the Configuration down carefully. His expression was empty, though certainly with concentration and motive. Her weak, yet frantic attempts to stand her ground were in vain -- and with a glance to the walls on each side of her, METAL CHAINS crashed through them as though they had always been there; waiting to burst in for this particular moment. Both chains, armed with razor--like hooks, pierced her wrists and HEAVED. Her arms were now outstretched on each side, keeping her from falling if she was to loose consciousness from her injuries. But more so -- she looked so much like a BLANK CANVAS this way. 

Her screams and sobs of agony were almost CONSTANT at this time; the more she struggled, the more the hooks ripped further into her pale flesh. The Pontifex now stood only centimetres apart from her now, and suddenly; a fit of RAGE overcame her. She cursed, hissed, yelled at him -- Finishing it off by SPITTING at the Priest. But despite this, instead of displaying disgust; came amusement. He raised his left hand to let his fingers glide through the gaps of his pins, wiping away at the saliva before forcefully shoving them into the girls mouth. Of course, what he had expected was for her to BITE DOWN -- and she did just that. But it was no use; for it only brought more enjoyment on his part. Reaching with his right hand to the thread that hanged down from him, he unlatched his SICKLE; Slowly raising it to her face to inflict more FEAR. She tried to frantically shake her head, but was held still -- the fingers in her mouth now gripping to her tongue. The Hell Priest extended it out as far as it could reach, her gargling screams now desperate as his sharp tool lightly grazed at the surface of her taste--buds. Without much time to plea, the sound of meat being SLICED was barely heard over her screeching by the current affliction. Her tongue was completely cut from her, the pain causing her only to FRENZY and struggle uncontrollably. When it was done, the Lead Cenobite turned to his disciple, raising the bloodied piece of muscle he cut from her with intent to offer it to him.

                          ``Teach her OUR PLEASURES.``

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SCREAMS INTO THE VOID

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ʙʟᴏɢ  -   ʀᴜʟᴇs  -   ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ

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chatterbite:

                CHАTTЄЯЄЯ gleams at the sheer suggestion– his teeth soon hastening ever-so lightly. He’s holding his excitement in as he held back the urge to not shove past him– using everything in his power stop from hacking away without his ᴰᴱᴬᴿᴱˢᵀ leaders further orders. The woman, her flesh as pale as plaster– her face untouched and unscathed with the exception of a few self-inflicted scars on her appendages– evokes glee from the cenobite. Everything in his senses blared the more he huffed– and it dawned on him that Leviathans gift of ‘eyesight’ didn’t improve his field of vision nor his composure in the slightest. In fact, he’d preferred relying on old senses for this particular feat. He craved blood– craved seeing ripped flesh– craved feline blood. He especially loved the disgust that drew on their faces when they saw him– more visceral than a male’s– exposed and unprepared for his lacking, contorted facade. It strikes more unnecessary fear than it needed to, and he loved giving his master the amusement of these scenarios. He trudges towards the girl– her delicious cries of fear titillating the eyeless cenobite all the more as he mulls. His soulless pits for eyes faces the lead Cenobite, ‘looking’ at him for a mere moment. Knowing full well that his boss was likely watching him with discretion, he doesn’t rip her apart yet– but instead raises his hand (meditatively so) as the girl in front of him gasps, as if the regret had swooned her. The cenobite pays no heed as he backs her up against a wall with every stomp he takes. Chatterer– feigning poised fragility– lightly caresses the girl’s face with the back of his hand. His other, unseen hand grips the latch of his hook, his wrist shaking. His teeth clatters like the tempo of that of a drum– quiet, teetering, and tentatively. He could have rebelled and acted out on his own– but his boss controlled the strings, therefore– with this in mind, the chatterer turns, only the side of his face visible to his boss. His tongue flicks out and he lets out a small, guttural squeal. He wants action. Now.

                       THE PONTIFEX OBSERVED his disciple attentively, taking full notice in his all of a sudden THIRST for flesh. What better way to enjoy something than with a friend? The screams, the begging, the CRIES for false gods -- those who were dealt the suffering may not have came to appreciate what the Cenobite’s had to offer, but THEY certainly did. In time, some came around to the preference of pain -- those lucky few becoming what they had summoned in the first place. Alas, that was so few compared to the HUNDREDS who came to them with unfulfilled desires. Perhaps, at times -- the more, the merrier. For now, though -- things were running rather SMOOTHLY. The realisation hit her like a train wreck, and suddenly there was FEAR like some had never gotten to experience before. The shock and perplexed look on her face said it all -- Oh, how INNOCENT she was to the pleasures of flesh. 

Just her luck, how she would be uncovered and taught of their ways by Leviathan’s favoured -- And no others. The Hell Priest strode into the boudoir; his long, black cassock now draping along the ground as he approached both the woman and his familiar. Ah yes -- how her heart THUDDED at the sight of her detainees. The Priest could almost taste the sweat COURSE from her almost bleached--resembling skin. But despite such FRIGHTENED behaviour, his associate still handled with much care; as much as he possibly could. Admirable it was, to wait for the lead’s orders before inflicting his own personal PLEASURES upon her. Regardless of his eagerness to experience her flesh, his loyalty was irreplaceable. The Pontifex, with his ally now readying to take action -- seamlessly walked to the pair in such close proximity. Standing to the side, almost between them both; his empty stare was piercing enough as his partly--gloved hand moved along the side of her arm, and to the BOX. From there, it took little to no effort to pry her fingers from it -- as she would need it NO LONGER. 

The Hell Priest, taking care not to invade too much of his co-worker’s space as he restricted the woman -- now wandered off to a more CONVENIENT distance. One of which he could witness the suffering without getting in ones way. His blood--stained fingertips gently caressed the wooden box in hand, holding it as though being so DEAR to him. Dark iris’ now turning his full attention back to their prey, he hesitated -- perhaps even just to heighten the anticipation. In his mind, he could see it; her naked flesh, with and WITHOUT skin. The possibilities of the experiences that would follow... His smile could almost be mistaken as PURE, if it wasn’t for the visible ill--intent and over--intimidating, self--inflicted MODIFICATIONS that tore him and his fellow kind apart from anything else. Finally, he would drag--on no more; TEARING HER SOUL APART will be most satisfactory. 

``I believe you have much to learn in regards of the restrictions of your FLESH -- 

                                                               allow our friend here to ENLIGHTEN you.``

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mooretech:

His grip on the box tightened. Surely he wanted this, right? That part was most certainly true. Moore was a greedy creature. He just didn’t exactly expect what was to come afterward. Returning to the present, Moore slowly nodded.

“Good. Very good.”

Flesh. The word caught him off guard, but he made no mention of it. If he had known why he was truly drawn to the box, he’d gasp and feel horrid. He’d claim that it just wasn’t true. But it was certainly true, even if he tried to deny it. For pain and pleasure was truly a part of his code, both inflicted on him, and he himself inflicting both on others. He cautiously eyed the being in front of him.

“So, you uh… You were summoned by this box. I’m supposing that’s about as right as any other guess. This thing, uh… You know, I only thought it was for… Oh, nevermind.”

He laughs at his own words, but he spoke with too much caution, not wanting to cross any lines. Truthfully, he did think it was a decoration, but a valuable decoration. And even now that it wasn’t, it had more value. But was it worth it? Despite the words of the one before him, he felt danger to be at its utmost.  

                     ``VERY GOOD`` -- WORDS NOT OFTEN HEARD by those summoned to the box. How...REFRESHING. Finally, someone who may perhaps show gratitude towards the extraordinary PLEASURES the Cenobite’s had to offer. Such curiosity was not seen very much, but when it was -- things became much more interesting, more ENJOYABLE to poke and tease at the darkest corners of their mind; discovering things they may not have even known about themselves until shown to them. Their SICK fulfilment, or their joy of SUFFERING... And sometimes driven to desperation by forbidden desires. But this man... VIGILANCE became him, making him more difficult to read. A mystery -- one the Pontifex was looking forward to unravel. The Cenobite’s were not SAVAGES; hiding within the dark corners of ones home, waiting to strike at their victims with the hopes of brutally stabbing them to death -- No. CONVERSATION and DISCOVERY played a huge part in their encounters -- occasionally tearing one limb from limb, but only in some circumstances. It was more pleasing to CONFRONT their summoners, and seek out their reasons for bringing them forth. But what most did not know, was that the Hell Priest would not return to hell ALONE. Dragged into the Labyrinth, kicking and screaming -- or having their flesh go through the most exotic and erotic sensations of pleasure and pain right there where they stood -- was no choice of the summoners. For the amusement of the Cenobite’s, and also for the will of Leviathan. FEAR was what kept ORDER amongst the damned within hell. Without it, well... It would turn out to be more like Earth. Complete and utter CHAOS -- something Leviathan would not stand for, nor his favoured sons and daughters. The Hell Priest had stopped once he reached a full circle around the man, facing him head--on now. Inquisitiveness reigned, his jet--black iris’ narrowing at the mans words.

           ``Oh please, DO go on -- 

             I have an ETERNITY to gather your cause for summoning me.``

[cenobxte-blog]

Hellraiser (1987)

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On that day, Pinhead fucked with the wrong guy. 

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Doug Bradley as Pinhead, leader of the Cenobites, in a publicity still for the film ‘Hellraiser’, 1987. Photo Murray Close

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~•●Hells’ Gateways●•~

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                                                                You think you’ve been through 𝓗𝔢𝔩𝔩…?

             Oh, 𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉…                             We’re just getting sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ.                                             I won’t be done until you’re ᗷ ᖇ O K ᕮ ᑎ.

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         Did you think testing my 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 was a good idea?                                                                          Oh darling…

                                     I do hope you 𝔢𝔫𝔧𝔬𝑦 what you’ve brought upon yourself. 

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😬👉

😬 Snarl/show teeth at my muse 

👉 Point to something for my muse to see

                    The Chattering coming from his ASSOCIATE at this time was more than enough to grab the attention of the HELL PRIEST -- even without having to hear reason. Coal--pigmented eyes studied his ally for a moment, following the gesture of his hand now pointed towards something now situated BEHIND him. It was then, like music to his ears -- the sound of TOLLING BELLS echoed. The declaration of their summoning; to experience that of another’s flesh and desires in the darkest corners of ones mind. As the gateway to the Labyrinth began to open, the pathway was clear -- a dimmed chamber, and in front of them stood a WOMAN -- Both FORTUNATE and UNFORTUNATE, holding the wooden Configuration tightly as if to cling to it for DEAR LIFE. For now, it was just the two; The Pontifex and the Chatterer. Though it was not uncommon -- The Lead Cenobite found the limited company just as entertaining as having many by his side. But at times, even for the sons and daughters of Leviathan; it was pleasant enough to BOND with each companion from time to time. Drawing his attention back to his Chattering friend, the Priest’s mouth cornered slightly in a sly smile.

           ``I believe this may be your FAVOURED kind of flesh -- 

                        Knowing how you beam with satisfaction at the SUFFERING of women.``

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🔪

Nonverbal RP Starters -- 🔪 Point a weapon at my muse

                  The Pontifex took a few moments to glance around at his new surroundings -- the only light visible being the pale moonlight beaming through the shattered windows of a retired home. It was then that he heard it -- the long, harsh breathing of a taller man muffled by the chalk--white MASK that covered his features. It was not surprising that the Hell Priest would be met with the sight of a large kitchen knife, wielded by the silent man seeking to cause him HARM. The Cenobite glared at the presented weapon, the light visibly shining off of the smooth metal knife and reflecting onto his dark, ebony iris’. It would be a lie to say that this change in circumstances were not AMUSING to him -- it was definitely a change to his usual greetings. 

``Do you intend to IMPALE me with such an object? 

                                I do hope you aim to make the experience LAST.``

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littleivy:

Malik nodded forcing his excitement not to show on the surface but it could be quite literally be felt in the air but the other along with a burried twinge of annoyance at the word fodder but hid it well malik was good at hiding his emotions most of the time. He nodded to Pinhead “Okay…. So how do i get to my mother?” he couldn’t stop him self for asking.

        HIS EAGERNESS TO REUNITE with his mother had surely become the young man -- the elevated beating of his heart almost becoming an annoyance. But there would be no fun in tarnishing the deal if the Priest where to grow tired of him just yet; Oh, no. His decent into the Labyrinth awaits -- to behold such PLEASURES and beautiful displays of what their lord Leviathan had to offer for each individual soul. Now turned away from the half--breed, the Pontifex strode forward; heading back into the realm he knew all too well. After reaching a much wider distance, the Lead Cenobite stopped -- briefly speaking before moving on again.

``I suggest that you keep a close proximity, Malik. 

What a TERRIBLE SHAME it would be if you were to find yourself lost --

OTHERS of my kind can be so selfish as to TAKE ADVANTAGE.``

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🌸

Nonverbal RP Starters -- 🌸 Put a flower in my muse’s hair

                          A most UNCOMMON gesture towards the likes of a Cenobite -- one of which the Hell Priest had not foreseen. For now, he was right to see the disfigured man as anything but a threat; allowing him close enough to place a single flower atop of his gridded, Pin-pierced head. Was this an attempt to degrade the Priest, or some sort of peace--offering to him? Such a gentle action towards a creature who’s sole purpose currently being to wage war on the flesh and discover ones deepest, DARKEST desires.

 ``FLATTERY will get you nowhere.``

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Nonverbal RP Starters

plotbunnie‌:

I’m finding it difficult to find memes for nonverbal characters ( be they mute, or just not fond of talking ) so I thought I’d make a few!

Neutral

☝️ Tap my muse on the shoulder

👉 Point to something for my muse to see

🤙 Bump into my muse

😊 Sit down next to my muse

🤨 Sit down across from my muse

📓 Push/Slide [an object] across a table to my muse

✍️ Pass my muse a note

🙄 Roll their eyes at my muse

🚪 Tap on a table/door/wall/chair to get my muse’s attention without speaking

Aggressive

🐺 Growl at my muse

😬 Snarl/show teeth at my muse

😠 Death Glare at my muse

🙌 Push/Shove my muse

👊 Punch my muse

👖 Kick my muse in the shin

👠 Stomp on my muse’s foot

😵 Knee my muse in the gut

💀 Knee my muse in the groin

🔪 Point a weapon at my muse

🖕 Flip my muse the bird/a similar gesture

👔 Roughly pull my muse down by the collar

💢 Bang on a door/wall/table to get my muse’s attention- angrily

Angst

👩‍⚕️ Put pressure on my muse’s wound

🌡 Push my muse down to give them medical attention

🥣 Bring my muse soup/medicine when they are sick

🤢 Hold my muse’s hair back/Rub my muse’s back while they are sick/throwing up

👐 Hold my muse when they are badly wounded/dying

👁 Wake my muse up during a nightmare

🐱 Hold my muse after a nightmare

😭 Hold my muse when they are crying

😢Touch my muse’s shoulder while they are crying in secret

💧 Wipe away my muse’s tears

💥 Try to calm my muse during an overwhelming emotional moment

⛈ Find my muse after some kind of trauma

Soft

👕 Tug on my muse’s sleeve/shirt/skirt

🐈 Lean against my muse’s side

🤝 Hold my muse’s hand

🤗 Pull my muse into a hug

🐕 Rest their head on my muse’s shoulder/knee

🐶 Nuzzle my muse with their nose [specify a location]

✋ Touch the back of my muse’s hand

🤝 Reach for my muse’s hand to hold it

👗 Fix/Straighten my muse’s clothes

😴 Stand by the bed to see if my muse will let you under the covers with them

🛌 Crawl under the covers with my muse

🥪 Set a plate/tray/bowl of food down for my muse

😚 Kiss my muse on the cheek

Playful

🌸 Put a flower in my muse’s hair

✨ Playfully shove my muse’s shoulder

💃 Pull my muse onto a dance floor/up to dance

🤞 Come up beside them and tap the shoulder opposite where they’re standing

😈 Jump out of the shadows to scare/startle my muse

😛 Stick their tongue out at my muse

😱 Make a silly face at my muse

🤭 Tickle my muse

👃 Poke my muse’s nose

💪 Pick my muse up

Sensual/Sexual

💘 Pull my muse in for a rough kiss

💕 Pull my muse in for a tender kiss

💞 Pull my muse in for a messy/desperate kiss

💖 Lean in to give my muse a sweet/chaste kiss

❤️ Lean in to give my muse a tender kiss

🔥 Pull my muse down by the collar/by their clothes - in a sexy way

😉 Pull my muse in by the hips

😲 Smack my muse’s butt

💋 Kiss my muse’s neck

👌 Push my muse down and give them a massage

👙 Pull [an article of clothing] off my muse

👀 Push my muse down on the bed

👄 Pull my muse onto the bed