cursedvessels

[cursedvessels]

@batt1ecries liked for a starter

"Do you ever wish you could just..." The combion's lips purse in thought as she looks up at the stars. A swig of whatever hard liquor she's carrying at the moment. "Stop feeling things?" maybe that's why she drank so much...

"Like I know most people get numb and they want to feel something, but...Like...I get the opposite, you know?" She bites her lip as she looks to the other through glassy eyes. A little drunk? Maybe. Just drunk enough to be mentioning something so personal to someone she barely knows.

"I feel too much, too deeply, I want it all to...stop. You ever get that?"

[cursedvessels]

Georgi's eyes widen when she realizes how rude she had been. The man hadn't even really been looking her way. Her lips press into a thin line as a flush of embarrassment warms her cheeks, warms the atmosphere around her with uneasy fuzziness.

"Oh," she hums. "I'm--" She huffs a sigh, tousling her hair a little as she angles her body towards the guy. She puts on a smile, a feigned atmosphere of enjoyment.

"I'm sorry," she apologises quickly, though the sincerity isn't totally there. It's not that she isn't sorry, it's that she's playing it more casually than she truly feels and it shows. Because everything she feels shows on her sleeve--literally.

"I'm just-- I guess you startled me, is all. So many people here I've never met, it's.. a lot to take in. I was in my own little world over here."

Oh, Tate loved parties.

He loved the noise, and the energy, and the way everyone always seemed to be having a good time. He has his own drink in a plastic cup, sipping from it occasionally as he crosses the room, past the middle of the room where everyone's dancing. Settling himself in a corner, Tate plans to take a second to catch his breath.

It only takes a moment before he realises he's not the only one who's had that idea.

That's fine. They can co-exist here for a little bit until they go back to the bustle of the party. He has no real plans to make conversation, really - half turning in surprise when she's the one who breaks the silence.

So aggressively, too.

"I'm just standing here." Tate offers.

[cursedvessels]

@miidnighters liked for a starter

There's a hazy gloom settled over the corner in which Georgi is standing. She has a mug clasped between her hands, manicured nails lightly clinking against the ceramic. Her eyes swivel over the crowd around. She hated these things--she didn't hate parties but parties that she was required to attend in which she knew little to none of the attendants? Those sucked. This sucked. At least there's alcohol.

She sips quietly from her mug, barely even bouncing her head to the music as she watches people dance and chatter, a few eyes looming over her. None of the stares last very long, the aura of intimidation around her too strong for most to bother giving more than a glance. That is, until someone suddenly brushes up beside her, taking refuge against the same corner that she's tucked herself away in...

There's a slight glare given to the stranger, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a barely-there grimace of a smile. Not friendly, though perhaps not purposefully unfriendly either. She swallows and shifts herself slightly, brushing her hands down her skintight skirt and picking lint off her fishnet tights. Lips purse, silently awaiting the inevitable greeting, until she finally decides she'd rather this begin on her own terms and...

"Can I help you?" Yeah, that came out a little more irritable than she intended.

[cursedvessels]

Bad at Magic

For those whom it does not come naturally to

"I can cast it! Just give me a minute!"

"Why can't I do this? Why can't I do this?!"

"It shouldn't be this hard! Everyone else seems to find it easy enough..."

"All I wanted was to be a wizard, and now..?"

"Maybe I'm not cut out for magic."

"Everyone's blasting off spells left and right and I can barely cast fireball."

"Every movement is perfect, why isn't it working!"

"The Gods hate me."

"All that study, all that time... for nothing."

"Ow! Goddamnit! I burnt my fingertips again."

"Don't backfire please don't backfire please..."

"I've got this, I can do this, it's not going to hurt this time -"

"Am I getting the evocation wrong? Am I saying it badly?"

"I just don't know why it doesn't work."

"Every single time I do this it blows up in my face."

"Indocrinus - wait no that's not right -"

"I can feel the power coursing through me, then it just... fizzles out."

"The magic feels... wrong. To me."

"There are easier ways I could do this, but I want to do it right."

"I feel the pull of the dark magics. The ones that are... easy."

"Why is it so bad to use the shadows? They want me to use them."

"Magic won't obey me. I cannot force it to. Yet there is another..."

"Dark magic this, evil magic that. Its all magic, isn't it?"

"After all, why shouldn't I?"

"You can tell me it's bad all day but it's magic I can do!"

"I know I can control it, I know I can..."

"Just... help me. Please? I want to be good at this."

"I want to learn magic to help people! To do good!"

[cursedvessels]

new muse..! so like this for a starter from >> Georgia Netherland. georgi. 22-28. combion. daughter of succubus. showgirl. sexy, confident, lonely. hates being a succubus. loves dirty dancing, cosy sweaters, clubbing.

[cursedvessels]

Oak hums softly as he feels the other’s cheek rest against the top of his head. It’s sort of a subconscious sound, comforted by the closeness even if they are still shivering. They open an eye when they hear the manager waving people inside. A sharp shake of their head when he suggests going back to bed. 

“Look, if I’m gettin’ dragged out in tha cold f’r an alarm, least we can do is get a takeaway.” There’s relief once they step inside until the AC starts to make them even colder, make their wet clothes stick and cling to their thin frame. The grimace, goosebumps rising on their skin.

“Dry clothes, then takeaway,” he agrees with a nod.

"We can order a takeaway." Tate grins. "Or I have half a mind to just dry off and go back to bed."

Especially after having been out here in the cold. Head tips down so that his cheek rests against the top of theirs - grinning at the sight of the building manager starting to wave people back inside.

"We're already awake, we may as well." Tate muses, continuing his line of thought as they start to move back inside. "We can order it and then dry off while we're waiting for it. I've got something spare you can put on if you don't want to keep wearing your wet clothes."

[cursedvessels]

They shift closer to Tate as he rubs his hands down his arms, relishing the warmth and also taking the chance to try and share some of their own body heat with him. Although they feel bad leaving Tate jacketless, they aren’t giving it back. They hate getting wet like this. Wet clothes are the literal worst. Only thing worse than that is wet fur.

“Or at least hold off on the toaster for a little while,” they say pointedly. “I’m always down f’r takeaway, ya know.” He swipes his dripping locks back from his face and sort of shifts to lean his head against his shoulder. His eyes peer towards the building silently until the signal is given that it’s safe.

“Should we order a takeaway, then? Or are ya still determined ta do the bagel?” A teasing grin.

Tate doesn't look much better, though he doesn't have as much hair to be plastered to his forehead. He rubs Eoghan's arms over the outside of his jacket, trying to get some more warmth into the other's body.

"Yeah, I should probably stop too." Nevermind that it had been the toaster - maybe Tate should just resign himself to a life of microwae meals and take-out.

"Hopefully they let us back in soon, though."

[cursedvessels]

Eoghan looks like a wet cat standing in the rain with his arms wrapped around his middle and a frown on his face. Golden curls cling to his cheeks, forehead, the back of his neck. They look miserable and somewhat pathetic shivering there next to Tate. Their gaze trails over to Tate when he starts apologising. Despite their best efforts, they can't keep all of the malice from their baby blue hues. And they do try.

"I know," they say quickly despite the frown on their face. They're relieved to have the jacket, though they feel a little bad taking it... "It happens. I do shit like dat all the time, but...that's also why I stopped using the oven." A lopsided grin to try and lighten the mood.

o p e n starter; tate

“Sorry, sorry.” They’re standing in the parking lot - Tate offering the stranger shivering next to him his jacket, because he forgot about a bagel he had in the toaster and set the fire alarm for the entire building off.

“It was an accident.”

[cursedvessels]

The fluffy noodle nods, nose twitching as they smile at their friend. The nuzzle is comforting and they’re quick to nuzzle back, their whiskers tickling his ear.

They spend most of the car ride either on Tate’s shoulder or on the dash sunbathing. It’s their preferred way to ride in the car since they tend to feel car sick unless they’re the one driving. Once they pull up to the lookout, though, he slinks down off the dash and into the passenger seat.

He looks up when Tate speaks, then gives a silent nod before shifting back. A warm smile. 

“Feel like it’s been a while. Ya know, since we’ve…done anything together like this.”

Eoghan is definitely right there, about them moving so slow, but at the same time that's part of the reason he's picked somewhere romantic-ish to go. Tate's not afraid of asking the question, now that he has the inkling that the other might feel something too.

"Yeah, I'll drive."

That was a given - and more so when Oak shifts forms and climbs up his clothes. Tate tilts his head to rub a cheek along the other's fur as he wanders around grabbing his keys.

The drive to the look out isn't a long one, and it's relatively quiet given that it's a weeknight. Tate kills the engine and offers another pat to the curled-up ferret. "Are you gonna change back and hang out with me?"

[cursedvessels]

Clearly neither of them wants to assume anything, which is maybe why things are moving so slowly between the two of them. Eoghan certainly won't be the one to say something until they're absolutely sure they're not going to ruin the friendship between them.

"Go somewhere, huh? We could go somewhere." A nod, smile softening a little. They swallow and then stand with finality. "Long as you do the driving." Before they can even get an answer, they've shifted into their ferret form and scurried over to Tate to climb up his pant-leg and perch themselves onto his shoulder.

Oh? Oh?

Tate doesn't want to assume that what he's hearing he's hearing right. Especially when Oak moves on so quickly.

"Lets go somewhere. You wanna go somewhere? We could take a drive up to the lookout."

It won't exactly expend a lot of the energy now, but if they're both saying what Tate thinks they're saying then maybe it can expend some of the energy later.

[cursedvessels]

Of course, they're being a bit dramatic in their reaction, but that's just the way they are. Both jokingly and seriously, they have a tendency toward melodrama.

Brows lift at the line that comes from Tate's lips, though, and a smirk spreads across his face just as quickly as the frown had. He purses his lips as he tries to ignore the heat in his cheeks. He pauses, tilts his head as he looks up at the ceiling in thought.

"Well...I could t'ink of a few t'ings," they admit slyly, pale blue hues meeting Tate's gaze as they tilt their head to one shoulder. A bite of their lip. Then, they're quickly moving on like there hadn't been clear undertones in what both of them had said.

"But I wanna know what you think. What d'you want? Yer tha one wit' all th' energy, I'm just along for the ride."

Oh - Tate hadn't meant to make him frown.

"I'm having heaps of fun, I was only kidding. You're the baddest idea I'll ever need."

Oops - that sounded a bit like a line, and Tate's not really sure if the other wants to hear it like that.

"Unless you have any ideas for fun right now."

[cursedvessels]

He rolls his eyes at him with a lopsided smirk as he pouts. "Oh, it won't be that long." His nose wrinkles a little. However, at mention of finding another bad idea to enjoy he frowns.

"What, am I not bad enough for you? Are we not havin' fun? Honestly, I'm hurt. What would make mae more fun right now?"

Tate pouts playfully.

"I'm not gonna piss it all out for aaaages."

Mostly, he wants a furry little friend now - he knows that he could probably say so and Oak would slip into his preferred form, but then Tate would lose the ability to talk to him, wouldn't he?

"I suppose I'll just have to go find some other bad idea to have fun with."

[cursedvessels]

i have big muse for muses that i'm never musey for so like this for a l'il back-n-forth/one-line type thing from one of these guyz;

Eoghan "Oak" --familiar spirit. fae. looks 20s-30s. prefers ferret form. pointed ears. a little dumb, a lot dramatic. athletic. bad boy vibes, but not actually bad boy. Likes coffee. Hates being alone. human verse; f1 rookie year 2

Xander --late 20s-mid30s. homeless. ex-musician. a literal puppy. amnesiac/short-term memory loss. blind w/o glasses. glitched shapeshifter. curious, troublemaker. Loves food.

Elizabeth "E" -- 19-22. psychic. daughter of magical traveling circus ringmaster. rebellious, tough, loner. Likes cigarettes. Hates liars.

Indigo Lee -- 28-32. alien, stuck on Earth. IT consult & hacker. perpetually exhausted. hermit. technomancer. telekinesiss. morally ambiguous. Likes sleeping on the couch.

Barry Jr. --28-40. clone. ex-teacher. works odd jobs/mechanic/construction. occasional tutoring when permitted. fractured memory/personalities from merging of past lives into one being after expendables project was shut down. shy, anxious, lonely. Loves cardigan sweaters. Hates coffee.

[cursedvessels]

Oak chuckles softly. Since Tate doesn't exactly drink coffee often, the way he was rambling and the empty cup in his hand had been all the context clues Eoghan had needed to piece it together. He found it a little amusing, maybe a bit endearing in a way he didn't want to mention out loud.

"I didn' say no," they hum with a shrug. They point a finger at him with a playful grin. "Ask me again once ya've pissed out all the caffeine, how's that?"

"Maybe."

It's a bashful admission, Tate looking down at the cup in his hand. He doesn't drink a lot of coffee anyway, let alone through the season, but when he does it's usually tempered with milk and sugar.

This morning, the girl at the cafe had given him the wrong order, and Tate had been out the door before he realised.

"So that's a no to a raccoon...?"

[cursedvessels]

Finding food had been just about the only thing Xander knew how to do well enough that it had kept him alive in the days he's been traversing the end of the world. Every other skill he had was long forgotten or perhaps never even had in the first place. Being alone was not a new experience, at least. Being homeless was nothing new to handle...

After the beginning of the end, though, even the people who hadn't become those undead things seemed to slowly deteriorate into madness. Violence. It was everywhere as people scrambled and screamed and plotted to only live for themselves. Selfishness ruled the world now, kept one alive, and Xander had never been good at that either. Somehow, though, almost a month later, they're still kicking. Barely.

The mall felt like a beacon amidst an abandoned wasteland. The one place they knew would have food, clothes, anything they might need in the initial moments of the outbreak. Sure, it didn't last long, but they'd made a point of stocking up and staying there for the long haul. Supplies were relatively steady even after it had been ransacked and it was close to just about everything in the city. Less runs out in the open meant less chances of running into trouble.

Typically, Xander kept their distance when people came through the mall. Some people would use it as a sheltered way to cross the area, others would come in search of whatever supplies might be left. Stragglers were few and far between, though, and became even fewer as the days ticked on...

Needless to say, there's surprise that tightens their chest when they see the person setting up camp in the building. At first, they try their best to remain hidden, watching curiously, trying not to cross paths because he isn't sure what to make of her yet. That is, until he accidentally gives himself away as he knocks something off a countertop and sends it crashing to the ground.

He freezes, wincing sharply at the noise. There's no zombies to worry about here, not in this part of the mall anyway--he'd been doing routine checks--yet the noise still startles him enough to have his muscles tensing. He swallows, shrinking in on himself as he slowly peels his eyes open to view the stranger. Heart racing in his chest, he parts his quivering lips and takes a shaky inhale. She doesn't seem to have a weapon, doesn't even seem to move to threaten him, but he drops what he's carrying and holds his hands up in a defensive surrender anyway.

"Sorry, s- sorry," they stammer out anxiously as they straighten themselves. "I di- didn't-- I don't--" He swallows, blinking hard. A small shake of their head. "Um...Take- take- take whatever you want, I- I- I, uh..." The panicked response of someone unused to being approached kindly.

OPEN STARTER: anyone / @indiestarter FROM: danica "dani" jacobs, 32, she/her, queer PLOT: inspired by the pilot episode of the walking dead. danica wakes from a coma to find the world has fallen to a zombie apocalypse. she begins hunting for fellow survivors in the hopes of making it through the apocalypse alive. one day, while digging for supplies in an abandoned mall, she runs into y/m. POTENTIAL IDEAS: n/a NOTE: 21+ only, don't reply just for smut, dms open to chat or plot, potential ideas are completely optional!

It's strange how quiet the world is when everyone is dead. Undead. Whatever. The walking remains of humanity don't make much noise—not unless they spot you, that is. Dani tracks everything she learns about the dead which, truthfully, isn't much. She knows they're slow; a curse of being dead, she assumes. She knows they're dangerous, obviously. And she knows they're everywhere. Everywhere. Danica woke up sometime in April. At least, the wall calendar was flipped to April. It's hard to tell how long she was left in that hospital while the world came to an end outside its walls. Still. April. She carefully tracks the days in a small notebook she stole (is it stealing if everyone else is dead?) from the hospital gift shop. It's been twenty-three days now. She's been alone every day. Until now. The mall was nice, once upon a time. Children screaming from the indoor playground, shuffling footsteps of couples browsing storefront windows, the smell of the pretzel shop on the second floor, wafting down over the balcony to tempt everyone up the escalator. The only thing Dani smells now is death. She's gotten quite used to that smell. Her first stop is in the food court on the ground floor. She's survived for days now on stale crackers, a jar of peanut butter, and bottled water. Speaking of... her water supply is running low. She tries not to think about what happens when she runs out entirely. To no one's surprise, the food court has been ransacked. Vending machines lay on their backs, shattered into pieces as people grabbed desperately at the food & drinks within. Through each empty restaurant, she hunts for the scraps. Her bounty is small, but it gives her hope. Fourteen bottles of water, tucked away in a cabinet of what was once a coffee bar. Three boxes of protein bars, expired, from a smoothie shop that sold 'healthy alternatives to modern food'. The wording makes her giggle. If only they had known what the future held. And her final prize, from a Chinese restaurant, eight bags of rice, ten pound a piece. Carefully, she gathers her harvest and considers her next move. If she leaves here, she can't take everything with her. Already, the bag she carries is heavy with medical supplies & bottled water. But she can't leave it behind. The rice will keep her fed for months, a year, if she portions things right. It's simultaneously the easiest & hardest decision of her life. She'll stay. With careful hands, she stores the rice & water in the coffee shop cupboards. She can use the carafes from their machines to heat water for the rice, once she finds somewhere to build a fire. The shop is against the far wall of the food court, giving her a view of the empty expanse of the mall. If something comes for her, she'll be able to spot them. With an exit door in the back, it's perfect positioning. It's a shame she was only ever expecting slow-walking zombies. It'd been so long since she's heard human noises that the sound of footsteps felt almost like a hallucination. Even when she looked up, staring at the shape of a living human, she wasn't sure she could trust her own mind. But then, they spoke...

[cursedvessels]

Eoghan looks up at the other with a mixture of confusion and surprise on his face. Had he heard that right? A smirk slides along his lips as his brows knit together and he shakes his head.

"You've 'ad too much caffeine, haven't ya?" Although they would answer the questions posed about owning a raccoon, they're not sure they want to encourage the idea. No judgement, of course, he has his fair share of caffeine-fueled crazy ideas, but he's trying to be the sane one in this particular instance.

@cursedvessels | liked for a short starter

"You know how people keep racoons as pets? I think I'd like to have a raccoon as a pet. Do you need a license? Maybe when I don't travel so much."

(There is, unfortunately, a cup that used to hold two straight espresso shots in his hand).

[cursedvessels]

I won't leave without you.

Indigo can't help but raise an inquisitive brow at that. They barely know each other. They haven't even shared their names. Can they really believe that he wouldn't leave the second he's given the chance? No. That would be illogical. And what did it matter? They didn't want him to be that attached to them. The likelihood of them getting out of there unscathed was far slimmer than it was for him, the human.

Lips purse and he nods slowly, offering a tight-lipped smile of politeness. Stay ready. He supposed, in a way, that's what he had meant. As a hand is extended his way, he takes it, gaze flickering from their clasped palms to the expression on his face. He clicks his tongue, a flash of questioning brushing his thoughts. To answer honestly or not...that's the question.

"Indigo," he says with finality, though there's a bit of doubt in the back of his thoughts. He might regret that later. It would have been more rational to simply lie and give some kind of fake other name. It wouldn't be the first time he had done so...So why do it? Maybe, just maybe, he's a little more human now than he used to be...

He nods, perfectly human. Because he is human. He has to believe it with a steadfast conviction because if he doesn’t, his world will crumble around him and he won’t know how to put it back together again. Knowing that there are some people here that aren’t already feels like an impossible task to reckon with. “I won’t leave without you.” He blurts out, swallowing thickly after he says it because he doesn’t even know if that’s true. Sometimes he just says things to make people like him, and he so desperately wants to be liked by the man in front of him. If presented with the chance to walk out of here, alone, he’s unsure as to whether he’d look back, integrity suffocated in the sterile compound. Doesn’t feel much of God here, either, but he reminds himself that faith often wavers, and that the duty of His children is to believe in the absence of belief. 

And maybe the man is coddling him, because he doesn’t want Trent to start crying on him again, but the kindness makes it even harder not to. Trent laps it up like a kitten, the runt of the litter, starved of milk, eyes glistening once more with tears. The words invigorate him, at least for the moment, a gaze steeled by determination. It feels like a secret shared between them, even if ninety-nine percent of the facility dreams of the very same thing. “Right. I jus’ gotta be patient. Stay ready so I don’t gotta get ready.” That’s what all the bench players on basketball teams say and then they inevitably shoot a game winner. It’s sick. He sticks out a hand. “Trent. Pleasure to know ya.”