PRCPHESISE :
❝ I’M GOOD, THANKS, ❞ she replies, almost sarcastically. the demon talks a big game, and it’s working. her pride is getting the best of her. hiding her clutched fist, she faces his bright visage directly with a sweet smile. ❝ the whole slaying gig does have its perks. most seventeen year-old’s hardly know what to do during an earthquake drill, let alone anapocalypse. and you’re right – it probably would make a good TV show, all the carnage i’ve caused. ❞
in a strange attempt, she reaches into the dreamscape herself. an uncomfortable, wispy tingling surrounds her arm until she pulls out a sports bottle – the very one she had been imagining – and gulps down some of the most refreshing water she’s ever tasted. ❝ this place isn’t so bad. i can see why it’s your go-to hangout. ❞ she tosses the bottle behind her and it poofs out of existence.
❝ now, what kinda mayhem are we talking here ? anything i can wrap my small mind around ? ❞
BILL CIPHER does not emote as humans do, but often employs clever mimicry of emotions for their benefit. Angular and without flesh, so very limited in recognizable facial features, he opts for widening his hideous, single eye in lieu of raising a human brow. ❝ I see you’re a smart learner -- a real STAR STUDENT, ❞ he praises, tone ripe with sarcasm. She may have an inkling that the mindscape has bestowed her with powers of conjuration, but she is no master of the metaphysical like he is.
HE DOWNS both of his eldritch margaritas -- ooh, that tingle is spicy -- by pouring them directly over his eye. The fluid dribbles over his visible cornea and the vitreous body seems to swell. ❝ REFRESHING ! ❞ he exclaims, and he closes his eyelid, reopening to reveal a gaping maw lined with wet, jagged teeth.
HE EATS the glass. Waste not, want not.
❝ MAYHEM IS a general term; general and generous, ❞ he continues, reaching an inky black finger under his eyelid to pry out a shard of glass as one might clean their teeth with a toothpick. He flicks it at her. ❝ Mayhem is what I call a Black Friday H&M sale that actually opens at midnight on Thursday -- they will be OUT OF YOUR SIZE before you even get to the racks. No, ❞ he continues, drifting aimlessly in the eternal void of the ethereal, ❝ I’m thinking of something more like ... the actual end of all carbon-based life on this planet, wherefore the ELDER GODS from MOUNT NGRANEK will descend to HOWL AND SCREAM AT THE ETERNALLY BLOODY MOON. Panera Bread will be catering, and there will be an open bar. ❞
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if it was not completely obvious...i am also @citialiin. but i wont rly be chillin on this account much unless its to harass my friends. so if u want to rp here on bill feel free to send dms to me on there asking for me to hop on this account because i wont check this account except to reply to nat
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PRCPHESISE :
A LITTLE BEAM of light illuminates her face, flashing with each word the demon says. it doesn’t look intimidating ;; not of the grotesque, huge, horned or scaly variety she’s used to fighting. but from what she’s read recently about this all powerful cosmic being – bill,according to all the texts – he is NOT to be underestimated. a look around at their blurred, cluttered surroundings and she realizes they’re not in reality, but rather her dreamscape. the trap was successful !
❝ it’s you, isn’t it ? you’re bringing nightmares to life, ❞ she surmises cautiously. hopeful he might accidentally reveal something, she plays it cool.
HE’S IGNORING her -- and it’s not hard to do ! She’s just so COSMICALLY INSIGNIFICANT, and he’s more interested in the little piece of paper and matching marker that’s suddenly manifested itself in his itty bitty hands. A dot here, a dot there --
❝ BINGO ! ❞ HE declares, turning it around for her to see, letters spelling out “ BUFFY, ” five in a row. ❝ Oh, you hit the nail on the head, sister ! Or maybe it’s more like you drove the stake deep into the vampire’s COLD, UNDEAD HEART. Or you pinned the tail on the donkey. PICK YOUR FAVORITE IDIOM. ❞
❝ THIS IS big kid stuff, y’know, ❞ he reminds her, snapping his fingers and ripping a hole into reality. He reaches in, sounds of breaking glass and shattering physics echoing through their tidy little shared slice of dreamscape. When he retracts his hand, he has two glasses and a cocktail tumbler. ❝ Forget being a VAMPIRE EXTERMINATOR -- those photophobic LOSERS are small fry compared to the kind of mayhem I’m looking into. And I don’t wanna ruin your fun: you have your adventures, you have your friends, you have your tiny little triumphs and whatever. It would be a fun TV show, and I want all the seasons I can get. ❞
HE EXTENDS a glass to her, rimmed with salt and an eyeball pierced through with a toothpick. ❝ Up for a (UN)HOLY WATER MARGARITA ? ❞
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∇ @prcphesise wants to make a deal ; do you think you could get me Edward Cullen’s autograph ?
❝ I FEEL like I should just tell you now and save you
from humiliating yourself in the very near future --
HOLY WATER doesn’t work on the stuff of PURE,
UNDILUTED NIGHTMARE, and I usually use it in
my MARGARITAS --
-- IT ADDS A NICE TINGLE !! ❞
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a gold shop in slemani, southern kurdistan. [via]
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▲Your song on our autoplay is just- god it's wonderfully awful I can't stop listening to it even if I wanted to. Where did you even find something like this? The depths of hell?
ooc ; i know its by ruth white but im pretty sure i found it on the soundtrack to space funeral, which has a lot of very ambient music on it!! im glad you like it i was worried people would just assume i was a very pretentious person :’)
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// aaaa ok I just wanted to drop in and tell you that you have a wonderful Bill! Also, hello I'm Knight!
ooc ; haha this means so much to me thank you a lot…i am a very hesitant and nervous person so at least i can truck on a lil more knowin some people like it
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∇ fierydescent wants to make a deal; yes, Mabel, slay.
❝ Nice heels -- lemme guess, or at least feign the impression of
guessing because I already know the answer but find it difficult to
communicate with the typical human unless I simulate idiocy:
versace, f/w 2013 ? I really didn’t pin you to be the kinda gal to
cave into such fashimite tendencies, Shooting Star, but let’s just
say, between you and me, that I wouldn’t think any less of you for it. ❞
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[ TRIANGULARCOMMUNIFICATION ]
“ Mnn, yes that would be useful. We waste most of our life sleeping, too. I’m sure you know that. “
❝ Haha, well, I’m not sure who this ‘ we ‘ is, guy, but I don’t sleep,
even if I’ve got PLENTY of time to waste ! It doesn’t mean I can’t
indulge in the well earned nap every now and then, though -- when
you’ve been around for a meager three point two billion years or so,
you learn to really appreciate the little things. ❞
❝ I was anticipating you’d be as dumb as the rest of the denizens of this
nasty place, but you might have a tad bit more than a bland, murky
convergence of chromosomal matter between your ears ! Feel free to
prove me wrong any moment you please. ❞
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WOAH HEY–
i debuted this blog exactly one year ago today !!! this is so weird and even nostalgic for me a lil like i’ve never had this much muse for any character where is this shit even coming from honestly ? my ass. definitely my ass. so much has happened within the past year and i’ve met sooooo many Cool Kidz, but the last time i made a follow forever was definitely 2014 ( srry i suck guys ) . there’s a lot of people who deserve to be mentioned that aren’t even active any more, but to those of you who still are—-thanks for sticking with me, an old, old man ! thanks for supporting me when my blog got the tumblr bug twice ! thanks for following me and/or interacting with me at some point between 9/14/14 - 9/14/15 ! and thanks for being really talented people !!!!!!!!! it takes a lot of guts to swallow your pride and follow a once-ler blog, and for that i am forever grateful. RAX. CITY. BITCH.
Keep reading
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[ FLAMINGTEMPER ]
❛ WHAT? I never–…They were ACCIDENTS.
It’s been a VERY long time since I did anything
like that. I’ve gotten BETTER.
it was only like three times.
Their bodies are GONE. Brian got rid of them. ❜
❝ Progress is meaningless in a reality devoid of any true standard
of consistency, tri-eye, but its always nicer to die at the doorstep of
success than waste away having never tried to climb the steps at all !
I guess you’re assuming that the whole ‘ progressive ’ sentiment will
compensate us for all our bunny-losses – but there aren’t any losses
for us to compensate ! Lookit this -- ❞
He tears the taunt fabric of the universe and plunges his comically tiny
hand into the deepest bowels of the churning galaxy, each finger
piercing a different reality, intersecting with all known facets of
transpired time -- and pulls out Tom’s first bunny. It has certainly seen
better days.
❝ See, the sentiment is superfluous. He’s still here, and he wants an
apology !! Don’t you, snoogy-boogey ? That’s what I named him. It
was a toss up between that or MALEPHAR. ❞
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∇ somniaxperdita, triangularcommunification, & corvusisms
want to make a deal; the cool science facts come free of charge !
❝ Even if a blink lasts less than a SECOND, you’re still wasting at
least FIVE YEARS of your life with your eyes closed due to
BLINKING ! Five times a minute, eighteen hours a day -- it all adds
up ! If only corneas were self-lubricating, right ? ❞
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∇ flamingtemper wants to make a deal;
here’s where i’d put an obligatory joke
about us having an unusual number of
eyes in comparison to the typical human !
❝ Long time no experience in which we’re within reasonable
physical proximity of each other ! It’s not going to be ‘ long
time no see ’ because I’ve seen PLENTY -- speaking from
observation, it’s been a real HOOT to watch you choke those
little bunnies to death when your anger management exercises
take a dastardly turn: say, what are you going to do with all
those corpses ? I could use a fur coat ! ❞
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ooc ; i wasnt here for like 4 months. pls feel free to like for starter!!
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– GRQ'W WUXVW D KR.
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hey everyone this is natalie (from raxcity/housingtwo). arjuna asked me to come on here and let you guys know that he’s putting all his rp blogs on an indefinite hiatus. his brother passed away really unexpectedly tonight and it’s going to be really hard on him and his family for a good while. i don’t know if he will be reviving his blogs later or returning to them at all, but in case he logs in, it’d be really cool of you guys to send supportive messages!! please, i know he would really appreciate it. thank you.
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His extrinsic mouth splutters into a sort of smile, silent cracks splitting the unyielding,
brittle skin into forced pliability; ❝ boy, kid, you sure are determined to siphon life
through a very specific strainer ! You’ve got selective comprehension -- and, I mean,
all humans do, so they don’t have to deal with the encroaching knowledge of the
horrible eldritch beings lurking just beyond the corners of their eyes, but you’re on a
whole other level of denial. Nolite te bastardes carborundorum, right ? ❞ He leans
forward, the screaming scrape of the chair’s paltry legs against the linoleum floor
shooting a dart through his ears, and he pinches his alleged son’s cheek fondly. His
fingers are lukewarm but damp, renewed life clearly bought second-hand, and the
rough abrasion of skin against skin sloughs the pad of his digits, leaving a loving
smear of lymph in lieu of a lipstick stain on Norman’s cheek. He retracts, fleeting and
capricious with his distribution of muliebrious affection. Leaning back and relishing in
the uncomfortable weight of gravity on his shoulders, he considers Norman’s
grotesquely deformed, albeit useful, mentality; certainly, Bill thinks, he will require a
human with this sort of sturdy, solid disbelief and enduring denial if he’s to guide him
to success.
( the lord is my shepherd, and i shall not want.
and if i succumb, he can make anything real,
so that’s fine, too. scratch that last part. )
He drags his bitten nails against his teeth, rattling the brittle bone in his fingers,
twitching and tapping, incessantly prodding into crevices between his ribs and
under the arch of the jaw. ❝ Norman, ❞ he begins, castigation imminent with only
the thinnest veil of feigned maternal concern, ❝ we need to talk. ❞ He prods a
lump in his abdomen with his finger. ❝ Finger aside, sweetheart, cutiekidney,
bumblepuppy, there are so many more pressing things to concern yourself
about ! ❞ The lump he probed slides to the left, and he attempts to push it back
to the right — uncooperatively sliding diagonally, he chases it round the general
area before he realizes he is fondling an intestinal protrusion through his fraying
abdominal wall. ❝ All of this, ❞ he says, choosing to rather occupy his hands by
gesturing at the spluttering refrigerator, the desolate lighting, the housefly
buzzing nearby, ❝ all of this, I do for you ! I mean, what wouldn’t a mother do
for her son ? ❞ he asks rhetorically, leaning forward to put Norman in a
headlock — he is unversed in the ways of the embrace. Four degrees to the
left and three newtons more, and he may accidentally break his neck.
❝ And because I do this for you, ❞ he repeats, slow and steady, ❝ I think you
should do something for me ! Just a teensy, tiny little favor. Mommy won’t be
around forever, and when she joins the angels, she wants to biodegrade safe
and sound, knowing that you can take care of yourself ! ❞
THE SIGHT STIRS a violent terror within him, dormant yet constant,
and he instantly rises from his seat. brows furrow in a forced attempt at
preventing himself from gawking at her appearance as he rounds the dining
table to approach her. trembling arms reach out to hold skeletal shoulders,
his fingers trailing the fabric of her dress. concern settles heavily on his
features. he averts his gaze. it’s just as he feared : her memory is fraying.
❝ Oh, mother…you wore this dress yesterday ! I was going to
wash it for you—-now look at the state of it ! ❞
a theatrical gesticulation towards the greenish drivel juxtaposed with
pale floral print, and he releases an agitated sigh. he doesn’t mind
caring for her, nor does he mind spending extra time scrubbing stains
from her clothes ;; the detached finger hardly rattles his conscious
( at least, not like the first time this sort of thing happened. )
it’s the budding frustration, the foreboding fact that he simply won’t be
able to sustain her much longer as the woman she once was. with each
passing day she becomes less like herself, fluctuating into something
unfamiliar…something to be feared.
he pulls a chair for her, urging her to sit before reaching for her left hand.
❝ Please hold still, mother. I can’t help you if you resist me. Now, I
need you to try to remember what happened, or–or the place you,
uhm. Dropped it. Can you remember that, mother ? ❞
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