πΈ'πΌ ππ°πΊπΈπ½πΆ πΌπ ππΈπ³π΄ ππΈππ· π³π΄πππΈπ½π , ππΈπ»π»πΈπ½πΆ ππΎ πΏπ»π°π πΌπ πΏπ°ππ
π»πΈπ
πΈπ½πΆ ππΈππ· πΏπ°πΈπ½π΅ππ» πΌπ΄πΌπΎππΈπ΄π , π»πΎπ
πΈπ½πΆ ππΈππ· π°π»π» πΌπ π·π΄π°ππ
πΌπ°π³π΄ πΈπ½ π·π΄π°π
π΄π½ , πΌπ°π³π΄ πΈπ½ π·π΄π°π
π΄π½ . . . πΈπ ππ°π π°π»π» πΌπ΄π°π½π ππΎ π±π΄β¦
γ
€γ
€independent writing blog for CLAIRE REDFIELD originally of CAPCOM'S RESIDENT EVIL but completely rewritten and reimagined by Ξ½ΡΞ·βΡΡΡΞ±Β πͺ
5 notes
Β·
View notes
Ashley Chris
Jess Mike
Emily Matt
Sam Josh
ππ§ππ’π₯ πππ°π§ ππ‘ππ«πππππ«π¬ πππππ‘π’π§π πππ¨π§π¬ βΉ ΰ£ͺ
Until Dawn (2015)
βYou need to go down to the mines.β
185 notes
Β·
View notes
@hargrove is gonna have to work harder for her attention than that...
β thereβs quite a lot about me you donβt know. β - for emily
γ
€"Yeah and I hate to tell you, that's by design," she snapped, already over the conversation and he'd only barely started with his 'ogres are like onions' routine. She didn't care how many layers he had because she'd been very obviously paying attention to her own problems and wasn't asking. "You realize if the cologne only costs $10, that doesn't mean use $3 worth, right? God, you're a walking migraine waiting to happen."
γ
€Fuck, what if he was using that much cologne because he did smell like onions?
1 note
Β·
View note
This is a starter call forΒ Emily Davis,Β originally based in Until Dawn with multiple verses in the works and potentially available.
Β Β Interacting with this post will get you a starter - likely short, as my personal time permits, but who knows if the muse strikes? Multis, please specify what muse youβd like it to be for, or narrow down muse preferences and Iβll see what I can do. Feel free to also specify verse preferences, if you have them, or hit me up to plot something.
Β Β Please note that this is a mutuals only starter call.
1 note
Β·
View note
β§Λ*Β°ΰΏ Well, he sure as hell wasn't going to admit it, not with his waning painkillers losing the power to have him spill his guts to her, but just having that thing out in the air between them as some plan for the future felt like something big, something important. It was a promise that they weren't just going to soak up each other's company in the hospital because they were scared and hurting and alone. It wasn't a fluke, and there wouldn't be heartache all over again later for it being gone just because they'd recovered and gone back to the fuss of life. Even if he didn't like the poetry thing, it'd be worth it for that.
γ
€"Don't worry, I will. Gotta make sure you're friends," he told her easily, not at all worried about it. Frankly, the fact that Wolfie was fine laying in the same bed as her was a good sign right away, because Mike had certainly had some trouble initially in getting the dog (totally just a dog, he was sticking to that story with the cops hovering and nurses giving him looks) to let anyone near them without growing and looking menacing, which was obviously a problem when Mike himself was going to have to go into surgery. One of the nurses said that some cop, a suit guy instead of a uniform, had bribed him to chill out a little with food, but if Mike had met the guy, he didn't remember it. The point stood that Wolfie was clearly okay enough with Sam, so making friends was next.
γ
€In all honesty, they were both probably a little stupid because the wolf was literally laying across Mike's feet, which meant that he was right there by Sam, too. They were going to be fine. Her trying to stretch her muscles out really just sold that point because even if she wasn't sore and uncomfortable just from injury, it wasn't like there was a lot of space without pushing her feet right into the dog's furry body. "What? That I'm way more than 50% pain? C'mon, not like you needed me to say it," he told her, because they both had to know it. He could tell that she was in pain, so he had no doubt that she had him figured out. He'd considered trying to roll onto his side to give her more space to stretch and realized with little more than tensing some muscles that something in his torso was absolutely not into that - ribs, he thought. He needed another round of meds, but if he did, he was going to pass out again even if they didn't make Sam leave, and he wasn't rushing to do that.
γ
€"You do have pretty big feet for how small you are, and you probably smelled like pond water, so maybe you are a bigfoot," he offered, like that was a concession to her 'feelings of steel' or something, but they were both clearly fading a little - just tired, or thinking. There was a lot to think about and not a lot of energy for doing it, so the teasing came easier, even if that was getting strained as the moments ticked past. His head and ribs and so many other injuries were starting to ache and throb, burns from at least three explosions (was it actually four? or five? there had been so many) and the damn monster coming in the door after him on fire after chasing him from the sanatorium, but his hand felt like it was the thing that was actually on fire. It had hurt a lot worse getting the fingers caught and removing them to free himself, but the pain of the rest of the night had faded into something manageable in the cold and panic. Now it was like it was all coming back with a vengeance. "Swamp Thing was always pretty badass, I'll take it. I look alright in green."
γ
€He paused, releasing a long, tight breath and putting on a strained kinda smile. "If they kick you out when they check in, you'll come back, right?"
βββΒ¨ΰΌΊ Eyebrows furrowed as she looked at her friend. The tone of surprise caught her off guard. "Yeah?" Truthfully, Mike didn't seem anything like a poetry guy. And Sam tended to be on the crunchier side. At least she was self aware. But the way he uttered out the question almost seemed like he was eager to at least give it a try. That certainly made her feel good, someone was interested in her interests. They may be a little boring and weren't for everyone, but Mike was a good sport. He seemed, at least, like he would give things an old college try. He had in the past, after all. "Teach me your ways," Sam hummed out, glancing down at the sleeping dog (Wolf?).
βββ She tried to stretch her aching muscles, having been taught it's a way to help them recover and immediately regretted it. Her calf had a charley-horse and everywhere else just protested and ached more. Being so stiff and still was driving her crazy at the moment. Sam was an active type, always on the go and doing something physical. This recovery? May be the death of her.
βββ Still wincing at how her muscles were protesting her, hazel eyes drifted over to Mike as she listened to him speak. And, frankly, she wasn't surprised he was in a lot of pain. He had to be burning up the pains meds they gave him just from his fingers alone. Her gaze cut to his bandaged hand before back to his face, thoughts drifting to what happened. And what exactly he experienced in the sanitorium. "That's probably the least surprising thing I've heard from you all day, truthfully." Mike definitely needed another round of meds. As for her? She was sort of taking some pumped up Tylenol and calling it a day. Sam hated the way they made her head feel- Like she was floating.
βββ Jaw dropped at the quip back, but a smile pulling at her lips nonetheless. "Ha. Ha." Sam could take a joke. She had an older brother who used to love to pick on her. She also used to have Josh who did nothing but make light fun of her. The blonde quickly pushed away that thought. "I can't tell if you think I'm a stinky hippie, or that you're telling me my feet are big," a socked foot was held up as if proving her point. Snickering, Sam put her foot back down and nodded. "Point proven. Bigfoot could honestly be my humanities professor." But still, she took note of Mike's face, "And trust me, you'll have to try harder to genuinely bother me. I've got feelings of steel."
βββ A sigh escaped her lips as she looked at the ceiling. "Walking. Big feet, duh." Her gaze was kept on the ceiling a little longer, just thinking. About all sorts of things. It was a real flaw of hers, quite detrimental to herself. Sam easily could get into spirals of thought, each one coming right after the next. And each one getting sadder and darker. Slowly, her head lolled to the side to look at Mike, raising her eyebrows as he sniffed himself. "I smelled like straight pond water," she admitted. Sam was encouraged to shower to help with her body temperature. Sam fought off a panic attack being in the water again. "But now that you mention it- I smell the faint odor of gunk, Swamp Thing."
20 notes
Β·
View notes