ddomesticfucker - Tumblr blog

[ddomesticfucker]

(Hi everyone, Mun here. I haven't updated this blog or replied to anyone in months and that's because I developed a chronic illness from having COVID last December, so soon it'll be going on one year of having it 😓 I've been playing the Village DLC and started a new game in third person mode and it made me remember Vulga and this blog. I hope I can come back soon.)

[ddomesticfucker]

What body part are you?

Brain

To say you have a tendency to overthink things would be an understatement of the century. It’s the only way you can function. Spending more time with your thoughts than others because they simply don’t understand. How can you make them understand? The answer is, you can’t. Some people are beyond logic and reason, but that doesn’t mean they are lost. You are the one who is more lost than they ever are, hemming and hawing over all the choices that you don’t need to. To tell you to ignore it though and to trust your instinct would be nothing short of a waste. Stay with your thoughts, but it will not give you peace of mind.

Tagged by: @the-dimitrescu-seamstress

Tagging: anyone ;)

[ddomesticfucker]

"Uh...no. I don't know about the...kadewy," Vulga replied with a still-raised brow. She would come back to that later, though...

"But anyway, maybe you will find them. If you're out there, then there have to be others out there, too. Maybe you can start a community of different flavored freako mermaids. The possibilities are endless!"

Vulga smiled oh so smugly at Sam's amazement and praise. "Thank you, thank you," she said graciously, bowing her head from side to side to make up for her current inability to bow with her body. The vinegar suggestion made her giggle. "I actually didn't know vinegar did that, what the fuck? Alas, though, it's not bendy bones for me--I'm all broken up and fractured in here. Pieces. Little tiny crunchy pieces."

Basement Ice Cream - continued from here @yippie-role-play

Vulga snickered. She was beginning to enjoy this kid's use of the word 'dorkass', and was wondering how she hadn't already come up with that for herself. "Fair is fair! I'm not much into the killing business myself, but I'm not about to stop someone else from doing it--especially if it's deserved." She shrugged and gestured to Sam. "Actual murder as a punishment for attempted murder is fine by me. Though, I doubt they'll find this place."

Vulga was then caught severely off guard by Sam's comment, her footsteps stuttering as she descended the steps. She put one hand out on the wall to stop herself from flat out falling the rest of the way down, and then turned to face them. "You have?" she asked skeptically, raising a brow, lips parted. Did word really spread that quickly around here? She'd been in the castle for less than a week! "From whom? 'Cause let me tell you, only one other person here knows about that, and I didn't necessarily tell her to not tell anybody else, but I'd like it if you did me a favor and didn't speak of it again, yeah?" She pointed at Sam, squinting and narrowing her eyes at them. She didn't want to come off as too stern, but she truly did not want word going around the castle about a new maiden (who hadn't actually spoken to the Countess yet) who could do...well, all that. Vulga would like to either let people know on her own terms, and also not let certain ones know at all. She knew how convenient it could be to keep this 'skill' guarded, at times.

[ddomesticfucker]

"I'm sure it will," Vulga mumbled in response to Cassandra as she tousled her hair, making sure the dry shampoo reached her roots. "But I doubt all the skill in the world will make up for tracking mud and blood on an expensive rug." Or something or other. The back pop had done little to sway Vulga, though she did jump just a little bit at the sound--no way was she trusting the other woman enough to turn away from her for that long. Maybe in a month, if she and her sisters (and her mother) could refrain from disposing of her for that long, but not now.

Vulga snorted at Cassandra's comment, unimpressed by it in stark contrast. You clean up nicely, she thought in a mocking tone. "Thanks, I know," was the shorter girl's response, lip quirked. "I figured the fancy shirt would make it seem less like I crawled out from a dirty hole to beg for a job." Was she ready, Cassandra asked, and although what came out of Vulga's mouth was a resounding 'yes', the real answer was probably absolutely not. The question, though, was if Vulga would ever be. If she didn't jump at it now, would she ever actually? Sometimes the only way to get things done was to just do them, and not even think about it.

And so her answer was, "Yes." She was already headed for the door. Vulga walked past Cassandra and stayed with her back turned to her for just a moment, just a deliberate split second, before turning back around. She gestured towards the door and smiled slyly. "Lead the way."

A New Plaything, Cont’d

Continued from here, @ddomesticfucker

“All right, all right. You clearly know what you’re talking about and what you’ve experienced, so I’ll shut up about how to deal with the other lords,” Cassandra sighed dramatically, fitting with Vulga’s tease. “The one time I try to be nice…”

The cat and mouse moment over with, Cassandra stood back as Vulga backed away. Wanting to relieve the tension just a bit more, the brunette stretched and popped her back. The motion was oddly human. She had expected Vulga to take that opportunity to vanish into the washroom, but the girl was taking her sweet time with moving. Had she really been scared that much? Was she really that intimidated? That was the weird thing about mortals… one moment they were brave, and the next? Terrified and begging for mercy if you so much as looked at them intensely for too long. It was times like this that Cassandra honestly wondered about humans and almost everything about them.

“I’m sure you’re pretty enough. Besides, this will be more about talent and value, not so much being a pretty face,” she reassured her. Cassandra let Vulga take her time changing. She didn’t rush her or say anything, letting her proceed at her own pace. In fact, part of her wondered if the girl didn’t take this opportunity and try to slip away. Not that there was anywhere to slip away to in that washroom, but she’d find it amusing if an attempt was made. But, judging by the sounds coming from within, Vulga was honestly taking her time to look presentable.

When Vulga finally did reemerge. Cassandra was notably impressed. Yes, she was still wearing black, not that the color really matter, but her appearance was definitely an improvement. “You clean up nicely,” Cassandra commented. “You almost look cute and harmless like this. The pearl buttons and frills are a nice touch. Are you ready?”

[ddomesticfucker]

Your Muse as the Solar System

BOLD what applies. Repost, don’t reblog!

SUN • egotistical • melted wax wings and fingers • stretching sunburnt skin • the most generous soul • blood in the fruit • halos • anger on fire • high vitality • thunderous laughter • is pride really a sin? • halogenic aura (6/11)

MERCURY • expansion of the mind • silver-tongued • an everlasting wanderer • polyglot• high dexterity • handwritten letters • innately critical • en vogue • eyes in the trees • hidden libraries•there’s always room for improvement (6/11)

VENUS • in love with strangers • iridescent waters • love potions for your mirror • selfless devotion • shattering crystal • seafoam upon sand • the golden ratio • drowning in your own passion • material value & high principles •luring • plush lips (5/11)

EARTH • fresh springs • tree hugger • we can start again tomorrow • a blazing rainforest • respects survival of the fittest • nature’s adversity • lazy bones • constantly evolving • flowers sprouting from wounds •a granite altar • fossilized remains (8/11)

MOON • illusory • silver shimmer off the ocean • secrets and gossip • cycles of reincarnation • a crybaby • physically ethereal• shared glances with a stranger • cat eyes • mistrusting their intuition • fear is a prison • ornate magic wands (6/11)

MARS • healthy competition • attraction and repulsion • magma and rubies • a blade being forged • wrath wrath wrath • malefic •intense eye contact • cannon fodder & fireworks • blood floods• copper taste on your tongue (8/11)

JUPITER • red robes and a suit of armor • beacon of stability • leader by birth • thunderbolts and lightning • guilty but can’t stop • secret rich kid • golden touch golden tears • innate optimist • failure isn’t an option • constantly reaching for more • unfinished symphonies (6/11)

SATURN • traditional • overbearing energy • a sculptor of reality • this existence is a karmic one • has a heart it’s just.. way down deep • law, order & justice • avoid all necessary risk • the sound of shackles clanging • sisyphus’ struggle • grappling with the reality of time • self-governing (5/11)

URANUS • psychedelic funk music • overflowing cups • a rebellion with skin • looking good in photo id • oblivious but caring • middle fingers in the air • double rainbows • icy diamond exterior • holographic • afraid of their own mediocrity • pearlescent smoke (4/11)

NEPTUNE • an elegy for the lost• dissolving boundaries • white horses • the burden of mystical conditions • deceptive• escapism is their reality • a polarizing entity • artists soul • paranoia• searching for the unseen• a siren’s swan song (7/11)

PLUTO • angel statues over graves • power • the cycle of necrosis •transformative • unfathomable depths • an ivory tower toppling over • screaming at the sky• violets and irises • eclipsed darkness • speaks with their shadow • sex, death, rebirth (6/11)

Tagged by: @the-dimitrescu-seamstress

Tagging: anybody who sees this :)

[ddomesticfucker]

Villainous Attributes

Bold for main, italic for minor.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

aggressive | ambitious | antisocial | bitter | bloodthirsty | brazen | callous | cannibal | calculating | capricious | careless | cold | compulsive | covetous | cowardly | cunning | cynical | deceitful | devious | domineering | envious | exploitative | greedy | hypocritical | impatient | impolite | indolent | insidious | insolent | irreverent | jaded | kidnapper | liar | lustful | machiavellian | manipulator | materialistic | megalomaniac | mercurial | misanthropic | murderer | obsessive | opportunistic | over-critical | over-emotional | patronizing | petty | proud | ruthless | resentful | sadistic | sarcastic | self-indulgent | selfish | serial killer | stoic | spiteful | torturer | two-faced | touchy | traitorous | unclean | unforgiving | unhinged | unpredictable | unscrupulous | vain | vengeful | volatile | wrathful

Tagging: anyone ;)

[ddomesticfucker]

Vulga laughed until what Magdalena meant (may have meant?) clicked in her brain. She squinted at the seamstress with furrowed brows, turning to look at the wall behind her, pointing one finger there and then back at Magda. "You...do you mean this place?" she asked conspiratorially, leaning in. "I mean, I made it up through the walls already, but...like, there's actual secret passageways? I was just climbing around the support bars and all that. Are you basically telling me that this is 'Dracula's castle'?" Mental note made.

In that tiny soft and pathetic part of Vulga, seeing the seamstress smile made her feel warm inside. She felt like she had actually done something good. "Maybe you will! No one knows what the future holds and you can't knock something if it hasn't even had the chance to happen yet, you know? I don't think it's weird at all to enjoy it here. For as little as I know, I do have enough knowledge of this place to understand why you feel that way, but look at it like this: you made a decision and you've stuck to it. You haven't run away. You've adapted to your circumstances, and as a result, you're basically the same thing as a celebrity designer, in my opinion. Think about everything you've gotten to create by coming to work here and how it's pushed your work."

Pausing Vulga's pep talk was the mention of inappropriate comments about Lady Dimitrescu, which...coming from Magdalena? That was a little shocking. Vulga didn't say anything, but she did make a very, very suggestive face. A 'tell me anyway' face, if you will.

Upon hearing the other woman's praise, Vulga made sure to pointedly flip her hair out of her face, smiling proudly and putting her hands on her hips. "Oh, you're too kind," she feigned humbleness, as if she didn't already know she had the potential for literary genius. "I think that once the book is a bestseller and Alcina realizes what a valuable asset I am, I'll be able to sway her into letting you leave with me, just for a little vacation. As a treat. Unless she kills me first." She gave an exaggerated shrug.

Vulga, well balanced as she was, had to catch herself with her hands to keep from falling flat on her backside. Her eyes went wide as she realized just what had happened, and shot a quick, dreading look into the hole that her foot was now in, not paying any mind to Magda's panicking. She was too busy trying to come up with something right now to fix this before somebody important saw it. She stepped out of the hole, and then surveyed it again with a tight expression, as if staring hard enough would fix the broken floorboard.

"Aw, fuck."

The Wall Maiden, Cont’d

Continued from here, @ddomesticfucker

“Yes, please make sure to aim for something non-vital. Like my foot or two feet above my head.” To tell the truth, Magda hadn’t expected that sort of reaction from Vulga. Laughter, yes, but not the full body shaking, bringing tears to the eyes sort of reaction. It made her smile, and she offered a handkerchief to the other woman. “I told you I begged for my life and made promises to the Countess, did I not? That’s what possessed me. I do my best not to lie and my word is my bond, Vulga. I don’t make promises in earnest often, but when I do, they are heartfelt and true. Play your cards right and maybe you will end up with a castle. Or a tower.”

Magda considered Vulga’s explanation carefully. It was an interesting point she made. Were they human? Yes and no. “I would never consider them mindless killer, but you are right. They’re malleable. When I first came here, I was only so many steps away from being food. The daughters didn’t see me as a person until I was here for three years. The Countess…?” She paused, thinking and remembering. “She saw potential, I think. Or at least I gave her potential to see. I’ve made progress, I know I have, but I also know that I’ve only gotten so far with Alcina. She… some days I can’t read her.” Then Magda realized her error. Yes, they were predatory as well as human, but Alcina had a third aspect that the daughters seemed to mostly lack. “She’s titled. She’s the elite and nobility. That is the word I was lacking. I don’t know how old the Countess is, but I’d guess easily over a century, at least. Judging by her taste in clothing, I mean.” And the portraits of herself and her daughters, but Vulga didn’t need to know about that. “We’re commoners. The hired help. I knew that for a while, but it just didn’t click, for some reason, until now. But you’re right, I’m a favored commoner.” Again, she smiled a little. “I’d love to be able to leave, or at least be able to live out the rest of my life safe in the knowledge that I won’t become a bottle of her latest vintage.” That said, Magda gave Vulga a gentle look. “She is my employer, you know. You have fun calling her foolish and disrespectful.”

Cocking her head at the money statement, Magda began reevaluating Vulga. “Either you steal everything you need, or you live life in the moment, letting the wind take you where it may.” She mulled that thought over for a bit. “I don’t think I could do that. I’d last maybe a year. I enjoy some steadiness in my life. As for what to stretch out a bit?” She waved her off. “I’ve changed my mind. Write what you want, true or false. I won’t influence you. It’ll be funnier that way.”

“Perfectly average people doing the dumbest shit alive? Isn’t that a fancy way to say ‘Americans’ or ‘college aged students’?” she joked. “But, I appreciate the statement. I, for one, have never jumped off of cliffs. Or most tall structures, for that matter. I play it safe… so says the seamstress who lives with unusually tall vampires that enjoy dining on the occasional castle staff member.”

The seamstress allowed Vulga her dramatic moment, thoroughly enjoying it. “Of course, I understand. The space beneath my floor is always open to you, Vulga. A nice throw rug, maybe a few pillows. It’ll be lovely. And should you not return, I will craft you the most glorious funeral garb, lay it under the floor, and place your found bag on top of it. This I swear,” Magda replied with the utmost solemnity.

[ddomesticfucker]

friendly reminder that even if i take ages to reply, i still want to roleplay with you

[ddomesticfucker]

What Daniela would feel would indeed be just like any regular old arm, soft skin sinking in just a little from the touch before being stopped by bone underneath. "Maybe she wanted me to be her little secret," Vulga grinned with amusement. "Or maybe she wanted to be able to say she found out about me first...which, she did, but..." Without hesitation, she took her right hand in her left and promptly snapped it all the way back, fingernails grazing the top of her arm, before setting it again. "I'll show anyone who asks."

Vulga couldn't help but snicker at the redhead's comment; the Mistresses daughters were snarky, weren't they? "Is that not my job? I live to serve," she responded, placing a dainty hand on her chest. In the back of her head, she heard her inner voice say, 'Yeah, you literally live to serve now.' "I'm here to do whatever you ask, whenever, however, and with very few reservations." Vulga thought for a moment if she should rattle off her resumé again just to prove it, but decided against it. Daniela would find out sooner or later what Vulga was capable of...and hopefully, Vulga wouldn't come to regret what she'd just said.

"And, thanks. I like me too."

 “ observing my talents, are you ? “ - (ddomesticfucker)

@ddomesticfucker

“Yes, simply out of curiosity.” Daniela replied with a grin. “Does it make you nervous?”

[ddomesticfucker]

Shrimpy, wormy 'mold things'? The way Sam said it made it sound like those were common around here, and it made Vulga quirk a brow. "What do you mean, mold? Wormy?" she asked, grimacing. "No, though, no mermaids. Sadly. No one from home has...aberrations quite like some of y'all do. At least, no one I've known in my lifetime, but maybe some folks from before I was born...I'll ask about it one day. Maybe I'll find something cool." A wink.

"Anyway, that's the spirit," Vulga continued and smacked Sam square on the back. "Everyone here is a little bit different but we're still similar enough, yeah? No need to mull over it too much."

She nodded towards the kid then. So maybe she wouldn't get any blue raspberry today, but she would be able to do a little bit of extended gymnastics--her personal favorite. She stood there for a minute, cracking her neck and brushing off her thighs. There were quite a lot of missing chunks in the walls down there, so finding a little hole to shove herself into wasn't hard; she walked up to one only a few feet away, squatted down, and then promptly dislocated her shoulder blades to fit. Ribs pressed inward, hips pressed inward, legs bent so far that her knees were by her head and arms popped to fit behind her back.

"Kinda cold in this wall," Vulga said.

Basement Ice Cream - continued from here @yippie-role-play

Vulga snickered. She was beginning to enjoy this kid's use of the word 'dorkass', and was wondering how she hadn't already come up with that for herself. "Fair is fair! I'm not much into the killing business myself, but I'm not about to stop someone else from doing it--especially if it's deserved." She shrugged and gestured to Sam. "Actual murder as a punishment for attempted murder is fine by me. Though, I doubt they'll find this place."

Vulga was then caught severely off guard by Sam's comment, her footsteps stuttering as she descended the steps. She put one hand out on the wall to stop herself from flat out falling the rest of the way down, and then turned to face them. "You have?" she asked skeptically, raising a brow, lips parted. Did word really spread that quickly around here? She'd been in the castle for less than a week! "From whom? 'Cause let me tell you, only one other person here knows about that, and I didn't necessarily tell her to not tell anybody else, but I'd like it if you did me a favor and didn't speak of it again, yeah?" She pointed at Sam, squinting and narrowing her eyes at them. She didn't want to come off as too stern, but she truly did not want word going around the castle about a new maiden (who hadn't actually spoken to the Countess yet) who could do...well, all that. Vulga would like to either let people know on her own terms, and also not let certain ones know at all. She knew how convenient it could be to keep this 'skill' guarded, at times.

[ddomesticfucker]

(Hello freaks and geeks, it's me! I just wanted to let yall know I do got replies cooking up in my head, end of last yr was veeeery busy but now I'm back on my toes thinking of ways to make replying more efficient for me 👀 stay tuned)

[ddomesticfucker]

Vulga unceremoniously snatched the handkerchief from Magda with two fingers, still wracked with laughter. "Oh, I suppose you're right," her voice warbled, dabbing around her eyes as she took a few steadying breaths. "With my luck though, it'll be some dilapidated medieval thing with a huge hole in the wall. Eh, I could still make it work."

Vulga listened to Magda speak, smiling and nodding along slowly as the seamstress came to realize the point Vulga was trying to make. Just before she was going to speak up, though, Alcina was mentioned, and what was said did make her pause and briefly rethink. The Countess was on another level, literally and figuratively, from the two of them and that had to be accounted for. Vulga pressed a fingertip to her bottom lip and pressed down, pondering the seamstresses words. "The social gap and age gap can and has definitely impacted whatever bonding you're able to do with her, but yes, I am right, and as long as you realize that then I'm mostly content. I say 'mostly' because I still feel like you're not giving yourself enough credit--we may be 'commoners' to her, but we're also people too. You are very talented and could be easily working for someone else with just as much status as the Countess, and they would be wearing your dresses instead. Don't undermine yourself because of someone else's view. And you're not going to become a vintage." Vulga could have gone further, about how noble bloodlines and royalty were all made up social constructs and dictated nothing anyway (and was so far from the reasons she idolized Alcina), but she had a feeling that she'd already gone far enough from the look Magda had given her. Vulga took a deep breath and crossed her arms; she spoke now with no evidence of humor or games on her face nor in her tone, no slyness, no quirk. This was direct. "And she'll be mine, too, god willing. I don't mean to disrespect her--you know that--but I'm not the kind of person to let that sort of thing go unnoticed, regardless of the status of the person doing it. Not even my own flesh and blood mother."

"Then it's settled," Vulga stated, clapping her hands together loudly and straightening her back. "You're going to be a deceivingly beautiful seamstress who's been sneaking the Countesses youth-restoring spirits for years and is even older than she is, an ancient babushka who's fooled everyone, even her employer. How's that for you?" Vulga smiled smugly and raised her brows--it didn't matter what Magda said now, it was going in the book, and it was funnier that way. "Every vampire's castle located in a monster-infested village in eastern Europe needs a little conspiracy thrown in here and there. Anyway, I never understood the obsession with stability in life, but if you need it, you need it. You could relax a little bit though," Vulga shrugged and winked, "and come with me somewhere someday if permitted. I think a year is a little generous on your own--no offense--but if you were with me, I'd make sure you stuck to it. Doing things you aren't supposed to is actually very fun when you decide it's going to be."

Magda may have been joking, but that comment took Vulga back a little bit and she realized that she was letting on too much about her origins if the seamstress was already guessing America. She skirted past it with a small laugh and then continued, "Yeah, but see, we just had that whole talk about how malleable those vamps are. You're comfortable with them now, and you live in a big castle, and do your work. This is your new 'safe'. I still say we should go vagabond someday. I'm not one for throwing myself off cliffs when I could just walk into the water, but I do love to break and enter every now and then." Vulga snickered. She was just bothering Magda now, but that was her own fault for making herself open to it.

"If the garb is nice enough, dear seamstress, I may just have to come back from the dead so I can wear it! Then you'll not only be living with four cannibal women but also a shitty revenant who won't leave you alone and still lives in your flooooor...oooo~" Vulga wiggled her fingers, backing away from Magda and not watching at all where she was going; she raised her arms higher and clenched her hands like claws, like a bootleg Nosferatu, her weight bearing all the way down on the loose board she'd dislodged to get into the room in the first place. Her cackling was interrupted by a short scream and the crack of the wood under her as the plank gave way, snapping directly in half.

The Wall Maiden, Cont’d

Continued from here, @ddomesticfucker

“Yes, please make sure to aim for something non-vital. Like my foot or two feet above my head.” To tell the truth, Magda hadn’t expected that sort of reaction from Vulga. Laughter, yes, but not the full body shaking, bringing tears to the eyes sort of reaction. It made her smile, and she offered a handkerchief to the other woman. “I told you I begged for my life and made promises to the Countess, did I not? That’s what possessed me. I do my best not to lie and my word is my bond, Vulga. I don’t make promises in earnest often, but when I do, they are heartfelt and true. Play your cards right and maybe you will end up with a castle. Or a tower.”

Magda considered Vulga’s explanation carefully. It was an interesting point she made. Were they human? Yes and no. “I would never consider them mindless killer, but you are right. They’re malleable. When I first came here, I was only so many steps away from being food. The daughters didn’t see me as a person until I was here for three years. The Countess…?” She paused, thinking and remembering. “She saw potential, I think. Or at least I gave her potential to see. I’ve made progress, I know I have, but I also know that I’ve only gotten so far with Alcina. She… some days I can’t read her.” Then Magda realized her error. Yes, they were predatory as well as human, but Alcina had a third aspect that the daughters seemed to mostly lack. “She’s titled. She’s the elite and nobility. That is the word I was lacking. I don’t know how old the Countess is, but I’d guess easily over a century, at least. Judging by her taste in clothing, I mean.” And the portraits of herself and her daughters, but Vulga didn’t need to know about that. “We’re commoners. The hired help. I knew that for a while, but it just didn’t click, for some reason, until now. But you’re right, I’m a favored commoner.” Again, she smiled a little. “I’d love to be able to leave, or at least be able to live out the rest of my life safe in the knowledge that I won’t become a bottle of her latest vintage.” That said, Magda gave Vulga a gentle look. “She is my employer, you know. You have fun calling her foolish and disrespectful.”

Cocking her head at the money statement, Magda began reevaluating Vulga. “Either you steal everything you need, or you live life in the moment, letting the wind take you where it may.” She mulled that thought over for a bit. “I don’t think I could do that. I’d last maybe a year. I enjoy some steadiness in my life. As for what to stretch out a bit?” She waved her off. “I’ve changed my mind. Write what you want, true or false. I won’t influence you. It’ll be funnier that way.”

“Perfectly average people doing the dumbest shit alive? Isn’t that a fancy way to say ‘Americans’ or ‘college aged students’?” she joked. “But, I appreciate the statement. I, for one, have never jumped off of cliffs. Or most tall structures, for that matter. I play it safe… so says the seamstress who lives with unusually tall vampires that enjoy dining on the occasional castle staff member.”

The seamstress allowed Vulga her dramatic moment, thoroughly enjoying it. “Of course, I understand. The space beneath my floor is always open to you, Vulga. A nice throw rug, maybe a few pillows. It’ll be lovely. And should you not return, I will craft you the most glorious funeral garb, lay it under the floor, and place your found bag on top of it. This I swear,” Magda replied with the utmost solemnity.

[ddomesticfucker]

Vulga stood there and stared off into space for a moment, seemingly thinking hard, before she stated, "Yes. That's my 'thing' where ever I go." She smiled, smug but still mostly well-meaning. "Of course I'll be nice to Donna. And Moreau--what do you mean, 'do as you please'? That's not very nice." This was only teasing, with a sly curl of her nose, as if she were genuinely judging Cassandra for saying that. Then she snorted and broke the facade. "I've lived through plenty already, I'm sure those two will be no trouble. I ain't a fool."

She shot Cassandra a weird look when she knelt down because, now, Vulga was not that short. Even so, she was still looking up at the other woman just a little bit, and that made her cross her arms. It was definitely an odd move on Cass's part, and even through Vulga's palpating excitement, it hadn't gone unnoticed. The look in her eyes wasn't dissimilar to the one when they had first encountered each other just before, though it seemed more focused now; it was looming and predatory, and Vulga made particularly sure once again that she did not break eye contact. It seemed like neither of them were going to let up with this game.

She huffed a laugh at Cassandra. "It's definitely the last thing I need," she said pointedly, and cocked a brow. Instead of turning away to go behind the wall, Vulga chose to slowly and carefully back away from Cassandra instead. "It might not really be all that pretty, but I'll definitely try my best." Her boots tapped bluntly on the tiled floor, which she now noticed were stained with old and new blood. "I don't skimp on job interviews." She reached out a hand behind her, feeling for the edge of the wall that she planned to change behind. "Especially not big ones like this." Okay, she was definitely drawing this out now, but she wasn't about to deal with the awkwardness of just staring silently at Cassandra as she slowly walked backwards while feeling up a crusty wall. Eventually, she did find the corner she was looking for, and as she stepped behind it she gave a little wave of her fingers before swooping behind it.

With a silent sigh of relief Vulga finally turned around and knelt, pulling her bag open. She had a good amount of clothes with her, for casual dress and formal and sleep, but she knew exactly what she wanted to wear for this. She slipped herself out of her current outfit in no more than a minute, pushed it off to the side and pulled out the new one. Just as quickly as she'd stripped, she put on another skirt, still black, but this time with a decorative pattern and not tattered, a black turtleneck and the finally, the piece de resistance : a black blouse, the bodice layered with frills and closed with little pearl buttons. The sleeves were loosely fit, a semi-transparent black that led down into huge frilled wrist cuffs, almost so big that they covered her entire hands. This was what she hoped would make the biggest impression, clothing-wise. To match, Vulga traded out her mucky boots and damp socks with dry ones and a pair of men's dress shoes. It was an odd fashion choice to most, but they suited most of what she wore, in her opinion. Next she brushed her hair out, trying to clear it of most of the debris and muck, and then coated her head in a spray dry shampoo. It worked well enough--gave her an acceptable amount of bounce back--but just for good measure, she carefully split her bangs and bobby pinned them behind her ears. That should hide most of the offending grease.

She walked up to a nearby mirror and looked at herself, propping herself against the sink with her hands. She looked herself up and down, examining her hair, her skin, her posture. She straightened out the fabric of her skirt and blouse, pulled her socks up smooth, and then looked again. With an audible breath, Vulga nodded, put her things back in her bag, and stepped out from around the wall again.

A New Plaything?, Cont’d

Continued from here, @ddomesticfucker

A small hitch of the breath? Her heart briefly changing speed? Eyes dilating slightly? Cassandra smirked slightly upon seeing Vulga’s reaction to her curtsey. She did love it when they got like this. It made the blood just a little richer… Wait, no. Noooo, Vulga was a friend, not food. She had to keep remembering that. Besides, she’d likely been crawling around in filth if her clothes were any indication. Food usually needed to be clean.

Now it was Cassandra’s turn to raise an eyebrow at Vulga’s interest in the reservoir. “Really? You want to see what essentially amounts to an old flooded portion of the village? When the hydro-electric dam was built, that’s what happened. Water needed to be stored, and people can be paid to move. Left a lot of things there. Underwater. I’ll help you find the place, not that it’s hard, but you’re crazy for going there. Moreau may seem stupid, and I’ll be the first to say he’s isn’t the sharpest knife, but he does have his moments. Depending on how you approach him, he may be friend or foe.” As for the thought of Donna having clowns? Cassandra just shook her head, chuckling. “No, no clowns. Angie doesn’t need that idea.”

Head cocked, she watched the emotion pour over Vulga’s face while her fingertips rested on the butt of her sickle. Watch the girl’s eyes. Don’t act before she does. Unneeded death, while not entirely unheard of, was a bitch to clean up. Not that she would be doing it. But calling staff away from their normal duties was… an annoyance mother didn’t always care for. So, best to wait and listen before acting. But then again, if Vulga gave her an excuse? It just meant more food for supper.

She listened to Vulga, not just her words, but the manner in which they were delivered as well. There was an honest fascination in her voice. One of wonder and awe. The pieces of the puzzle were now falling into place. It was like the ugly duckling seeing a swan for the first time and realizing they were the same thing, just at different points off their lives. Had Cassandra lived a different life, she likely would have felt the same upon seeing someone like her mother. She had no real concept of celebrities or movie stars, but royalty? Or glimpsing something rare in the forest? She had once seen a pure white deer running through the woods, and what did the great huntress do? She simply stood there, mouth open in shock, watching the animal run until it was out of sight. So yes, Cassandra knew what it was like. At that realization, her hand removed itself from her sickle and she held it out to Vulga.

“All right. I’ll take you to her.”

[ddomesticfucker]

Vulga brushed her messy mop of hair out of her face, smiling pridefully at Daniela. It always tickled her to see those intrigued (or mortified) looks on people's faces after her little 'show'. "In the flesh," she replied, placing her hands behind her back and rocking on her heels. She matched the redhead's grin with one of her own, jagged and fanged and very pleased. "You aren't the first to say that," Vulga said--bragged--and she was about to do it again. "It doesn't hurt in the slightest, actually. The feeling of your bones floating around inside sinew is a little bit weird, but rest assured it doesn't last once I get everything back into place. Even unintentional breaks aren't painful--just a little bit of a system shock, but, hey! They go right back into place anyway!" Vulga chuckled and raised her hands in an exaggerated shrug. Then, she realized that there could be an opportunity here to seize, and so she continued. "So as you can see, my ability allows me to do many things that the average servant can't, and I'm more than willing to fulfill whatever needs you want met. Is there anything I can do for you right now, Miss Daniela?"

 “ observing my talents, are you ? “ - (ddomesticfucker)

@ddomesticfucker

“Yes, simply out of curiosity.” Daniela replied with a grin. “Does it make you nervous?”

[ddomesticfucker]

[ddomesticfucker]

Vulga let out a snort that trailed into a nasally laugh, just short of a cackle. "Now why would you think that? Is Cassandra one to tell tall-tales? Well, lucky for you, I'm very real." Another giggle. She rolled her shoulders...well, as much as she could in her current position, and smirked; Daniela wanted to see her, huh? Vulga could provide that and, of course, more. There was only one way for her to get out from under the cabinet, after all.

"One moment, ma'am," she said. With some shuffling she shoved the dirty rag into the front pocket of her apron, and then began to dislodge herself. This was a noisy process, of course, as she shoved herself back out into fresh air and her body--bones--naturally popped themselves back into proper placement. Sliding out, her thighs, back, shoulders went from flat to a normal width again, like she was a balloon full of water being pressed down upon, until she got to her head. Now, this had to be a careful process, because her brain was in there. Slowly she turned her head so that she wasn't facing Daniela (this was seldom a pleasant sight, and apparently not one easy to get out of your mind) and very, very slowly pulled her head out from under the cabinet, making sure nothing got broken wrong or...squished weird. Eventually, she did get her head out, and it returned to shape right away. Straightening out her now very dusty apron and fixing her skirt, she turned around to face Daniela with a casual smile. "Hi."

 “ observing my talents, are you ? “ - (ddomesticfucker)

@ddomesticfucker

“Yes, simply out of curiosity.” Daniela replied with a grin. “Does it make you nervous?”

[ddomesticfucker]

"Good to know you've been shot in the head before, I'll make sure to aim somewhere else." Vulga threw her head back and cackled, her cheeks turning pink as Magda showered her in royal titles, kneeling down and begging like she was some sad little peasant in the midst of her destroyed village. She gripped her skirt tightly, her head rocking back forward again and hair falling into her face while she laughed; embarrassment squeezed her from the inside and, in truth, she could hardly look at the other woman for it. She wasn't mad about it though. "Oh, seamstress, you flatter me," she wheezed, "How could I deny your talents when you promise such devotion?" Vulga snorted so hard again that this time it hurt. She took one long-nailed finger and carefully wiped beneath her eye, wiping a smudge of tears away, trying to catch her breath. "My God, Magdalena. What possessed you to do that?! I mean, I do want a castle, but sheesh!"

Like people who work with predators, like bears and big cats...trust. While that comparison was likely accurate in some ways, Vulga couldn't entirely say she agreed. But what was the best way to put her thoughts into words? "Predators...maybe, but maybe not quite. They may be dangerous, but they're also...human." Vulga gestured with her hands, uselessly. "There's still a human in there. Human intelligence, emotions, reasoning. With those attributes, they aren't just mindless killers...they're...malleable. Like anyone else. Their mindsets can still change and new opinions can form." Or something like that. Vulga sighed, feeling particularly awkward--did she even actually say anything just now? Was it at all as thoughtful as she intended for it to be? She moved along quickly, not wanting to dwell. She had never been one with words (if she had to be genuine). "Anyway, I think you are favored. And if you aren't favored enough, then that's their fault. And if by that time, the Countess doesn't regard you highly enough to let you live on in peace, after serving her as dutifully as you seem to, then she's..." Vulga breathed harshly out of her nose, her face tight with frustration. But she had to watch her words here, even if she wasn't beyond criticizing her idols. "...then I find that foolish. And disrespectful." She crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air.

Well, glowing in the dark isn't the worst thing that'll happen, Vulga thought, but she wasn't going to get into that. "I don't need money," she told Magda, making an amused sound. "What I need is to see people's faces when they read the book or hear the stories. I doubt I'll need to exaggerate much about the individuals here, even you, but if you want I'll stretch some things out. Just tell me what and I'll put it in my notes for later." She winked slyly.

"Now, that's where you're wrong," Vulga stated readily and pointed a finger at the seamstress. "There can be a huge difference depending on who you are! Do you know how many perfectly average guys and girls I knew back home who did the dumbest shit alive with zero regard for their personal safety? And they most certainly couldn't do what I can. Maybe I'm just from a different world, but people would die trying to dive off bridges where I'm from." Vulga laughed aloud at this, not at all considering how off-putting it may seem; it wasn't that she was laughing that they died, but at how stupid they were to get themselves killed that way. Rednecks.

"Well, even if she did give me a room, I'm a very busy woman. I have many interpersonal things going on in my life at all times, some of which may require me to hang out under your floor. You understand," she waved a dismissive hand. "With the Countess inevitably learning of what I can do, she probably won't be too shocked if she happens to just find me inside the walls, either. I'll probably head down sometime soon and...brave it. If I don't come back--not that I won't--but in the case I don't..." Vulga looked away dramatically, like an angel or Mary in a Renaissance painting, and then spoke softly, "Find my bag for me..."

The Wall Maiden, Cont’d

Continued from here, @ddomesticfucker

“I could also call you ‘little gerbil’ or ‘hamster’,” she chuckled, noting Vulga’s reaction to the mouse nickname. “But if you insist, I’ll call you ‘little rat’ if it makes you happy.” After a moment, she added. “Oh! What about Queen Rat? Too fancy? Too much? Should I simply stick with ‘little rat’?”

“Yes, I know what you mean. Thankfully, things have actually gotten easier for me the longer I’ve been here. Is that an odd thing to say? I’m sure it is. But, it’s the truth.” At least for the time being. Her status with the Dimitrescu family could change at the drop of a hat, and Magda knew it. For now, at least, she was living comfortably, even if her job was demanding at times. “Believe me, if I was allowed to travel, I would. I absolutely would. But, I would always come back. My family is here. Not out there.” If she could travel, maybe she would pay her old family a visit. Just to see how they were and to show them she was neither dead nor a soul-selling monstrosity.

She grinned as Vulga briefly described her adventures. “You actually went into the catacombs? I did a brief tour with a few classmates when we visited Paris while at university. It gave me the shivers, what with the enclosed spaces and being underground. At one point, our guide had us all turn our lights off and stand still for about a minute. It could have been someone fooling around, but I swear I heard something down one of the tunnels. Perhaps it was you,” she joked. “I’m sure you saw areas most haven’t. As for Pripyat?” She just shook her head. “I’m not partial to the idea of being radioactive. Despite that, you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Whenever you do finally settle down… if you ever do finally settle down, you’ll need to write a book about your escapades. People write memoirs all the time. I don’t think it would matter if you kept everything in. I’m sure people would just consider anything odd to be allegories or something.” Magda put on an educated English accent. “Ah yes, the unusually tall countess was simply a method in which to convey the author’s lack of a mother figure and her desire to have one. As for the seamstress? Hell if I know. Some vagrant perhaps,” she laughed. “Even just your photos… I’m sure you could make a whole book of them. I could show you more than a few views from the castle that are breathtakingly gorgeous. Actually, there are many places around this village that have the potential for interesting photographs. We might need permission in some places, but…” Magda shrugged, not finishing her thought.

“Oh, I am so glad that I’ve given you such a wonderful idea to use in the future,” she replied, mostly in a sarcastic manner. “Just promise to use it against your enemies,” Magda smirked. “Trouble. There, that is your nickname. It suits you so incredibly well, what with how you get in and out of it so easily.” At mention of the ‘ugly sons of bitches’, the seamstress nodded. “Lycans are the dogmen found basically anywhere but the castle. Fast and armed, like you said. The thralls as usually relegated to the castle’s dungeon, though some have escaped and evolved wings and currently nest at the very top of the castle spires. They’re… they’re…” The sparkle and happiness briefly went out of her eyes. “They’re what happens when a servant is taken into the cellar and drained. Or experimented on. I’m not really sure. But yes, they’re easy to avoid if they’re alone. In numbers, though? They can dangerous.”

Magda did raise an eyebrow at that contemplative expression, unsure if it was another act or not. Once it dissipated, she just nodded. “I won’t touch it. If the board needs to be replaced, I’ll make sure it’s not fully nailed down, giving you a nice little way in and out.”