kereskitta - Tumblr blog

[kereskitta]

This seems to strike a cord with the Daycare Attendant. It looks around with an air of sadness only communicated in his body language. Then makes itself cheer up again. “Well…it is technically after hours buuuut…” Sun looked around again. “I don’t wanna get in trouble…” Also, it didn’t trust the reporter. Reporters were nosy and they’d been told many, many times to not talk to them about anything no matter how charming they were. “Okey dokey, let’s make a deal! If you win at a game of hide and seek, then I’ll answer your questions!” Sun strolled over to the wall, fiddling with a timer there. “You’ll have one hour to stay hidden, after that, no deal! Wanna play~?”

... This is probably fine.  This is tooootally nonthreatening.  It’s just... playing hide and seek with a... grungy old jester!  Alone, in a building that’s locked up for the night.  That’s connected to a recent string of disappearances.  

Yeeeeah.  Great idea.

“Well.... sure,” she agrees regardless, eyes already flicking around for decent hiding places.  There are tons in a place like this, but surely the Daycare Assistant is familiar with the layout here.  And he’ll definitely be used to playing hide and seek with kids.  Maybe she can hide somewhere kids can’t usually access?  But with his size, maybe she should instead use it against him...

Scarlet is quick as a whip, and she’s had to hide for her life in worse pickles than this before.  She turns again to Sun and gives a confident nod.  “I’m ready when you are.”

[kereskitta]

Melissa wasn’t one for paradoxes but Scarlet O'Conner was a shining example. She could remember Scarlet’s calculated recklessness, often ending up in sticky situations but always getting herself out relatively unscathed. Melissa admired her charm, it was almost impossible to question her, she just seemed so genuine. The redhead’s face and figure certainly helped, people are naturally going to trust something pretty. And Scarlet was gorgeous.

Melissa was slightly concerned by how easy Scarlet found her workplace. They weren’t close, she was surprised Scarlet even remembered her full name. But she supposed she wouldn’t be too hard to find, Scarlet had a lot of skills and there can’t be too many Dr Melissa Richardson - psychiatrist’s in the area.

She liked that Scarlet got right to the point, no small talk, no bullshit “I missed you, how’ve you been?”, just straight to what she came for, the favour.

Melissa could tell by the way Scarlet had carefully chosen her words that she was asking for more than she was letting on.

“Not necessarily by choice,” She joked with a sarcastic smile, in response to Scarlet’s ‘taking unusual patients’ comment.

The psychiatrist adjusted her position, figuring she might be here a while, placing one leg on top of the other and joining her hands together in her lap.

“I can provide definitions for jargon and give my own theories on motivations, but for me to repeat anything said by my patient in a session is an invasion of privacy.”

Despite Scarlet’s immediate assurance that she would never, a trained psychiatrist like Melissa will notice how Scarlet’s eyes light up at the mere mention.  It would be an invasion of privacy, a grave invasion.  It would be extremely morally wrong!  And Scarlet would never.  That isn’t to say it’s not tempting.  It isn’t even saying that Scarlet hadn’t thought about it.

“I’m not here to discuss a client at all.  Or... not your client.  I’m actually here to discuss a contemporary.  Are you familiar with Dr. Heron?”  

A brilliant member of his field, to be sure.  His theories are always well articulated and promising, and clients raved about the effectiveness of his techniques.  ‘Raved’ being the keyword.  As time went on he became obsessed with the mechanics of memory, prescribing experimental medications and documenting the results.

In a city like this, going full supervillain is just like any other workplace hazard.  When he went missing, Scarlet wasn’t the only one who wondered if that might be the case now.  But with nothing happening yet, most people are content to just... wait and see where this leads.  Sticking your nose into hero stuff can get you hurt.  

But then nothing gets done until somebody’s already been hurt.

“I have here some of his most recent notes.  I’m asking you to take a look and see if any of it seems.... sketchy.  And if you can glean any of his mental state from them as well, that might help.”

[kereskitta]

remember to repost, not reblog! bold all that apply to your muse  , memories of my childhood edition… tw, contains mentions of abuse / neglect / death / trauma

For Elena Vier (vampire verse Elena) scraped knees, silent tears in a locked room,  slamming doors,  pervasive loneliness,  a dog barking,  rain on a metal roof,  flinching at movement,  the creak of an old house,  forced laughter,  wandering in the dark woods,  wondering how you made it through,  sudden loss,  trying to make sense of the noise,  hiding what you love to protect it,  trying to explain but your words falter,  invaded privacy,  confusion at the pain,  running barefoot in the grass,  wondering what you did wrong and coming up with nothing,  realizing you aren’t a priority,   grass stains on white clothing, trying to earn love you will never have,  being threatened over the smallest mistake,  secrets you are warned not to share,  the feeling of never being good enough,  the hope things might someday get better,  grief that aches in your bones,  childish dares and pranks,  the sense that your body isn’t yours,  shame and guilt that aren’t yours to carry,  sledding down a frozen hill,  absentmindedly following snakes through the grass,  punching a tree until your knuckles bleed,  tears over every dead creature you find,  searching out small places you can hide… just in case,  climbing the tallest tree so they can’t touch you,  the feeling of something tainted under your skin,  a curious child told to stop asking,  floral dresses,  body tensing at approaching footsteps,  anger with nowhere to go,  brief escapes from the chaos,  the purr of a contented cat,  taking the blame to keep the peace,  being told you’re too sensitive,  the creaking springs of a trampoline on a sunny day

tagged by: @castelleve​

tagging: steal from me

[kereskitta]

Poor girl, she wouldn’t have the chance to escape on her own. The good news, however, is that she had a rescuer. It didn’t take much for Damian to break into the building - security was taken care of as easily as breathing. Partially because that was all he really had to do, releasing the spores from his lungs to quickly and quietly kill every single one. 

The man who bid on her wouldn’t be getting his “prize”. 

He procured a screwdriver from his toolkit, unscrewing the door on her containment. God, did he hate places like this. Disgusting ‘institutions’ that sold sold inhuman entities at a price. To be gawked at. Laughed at. Taken prisoner and kept in isolation. And god knew what else. And to auction off a child, well, it was disgusting. 

A job was a job, though, and the person who hired him didn’t want to pay. The man would be lucky if Damian didn’t kill him, though.

He reached out a hand for her to take.

“I can’t waste much time before they catch me. I’m here to help you, take my hand.”

It’s almost too good to be true.  It has to be, and as Elena’s eyes flick down to the man’s waiting hand there’s a flicker of distrust there.  But they really can’t waste much time, and Elena knows she’s running low on choices.  Right now she only has two; stay in the place with many powerful threats, or go with a single unknown one.

She slips her hand into his, the gesture hesitant even with her choice made.  “O-ok...”

Immediately Elena’s head is on a swivel.  She might be being rescued, but she’s not about to be dead weight.  And she definitely doesn’t want to lower their chances by asking the many questions building in her throat just yet.

[kereskitta]

Original watercolor illustration by Yannick Corboz.

[kereskitta]

closed rp with @sunlight-rp​

The animatronic’s round faceplate twisted from side to side, it’s body moving in a motion which suggested it was about to snatch Scarlet right up and throw her out or perhaps engage in a game of tag. It did at least seem able to process her words and actually formulate an answer to those words though, which was more than most human men seemed capable of. “Oooh~? Oh, oh, oooh~?” It chuckled, it’s tone amused but polite. “I’m not exactly the star of the show in this place, the one the people all flock to see, don'cha wanna see somebody in the band~?” It did seem genuinely surprised and made no mention of business.

“Oh, those guys?” Scarlet asks as if she’s surprised they’d be brought up at all, waving one hand dismissively.  “They’re big, it’s true, but everybody’s heard about ‘em!  No, I want a fresh take.  I hardly hear about you, and I aim to change that.  I wanna know all about you, fella!”

Scarlet whips out a pad of paper and a pen, looking up into the shining face imploringly.  “The other guys entertain- kids love them, they eat them up, but they don’t watch over the kiddywinks, do they?  No sir, that’s you, isn’t it?  Concerned mothers wanna know the guy who’s keeping their kids safe!”

She’s at least pretty sure that’s how it works.  She did her research before coming here, asking anybody who’d let her practically, but she really did hardly hear about the Daycare animatronic.  Something tells her the other blokes don’t look nearly this beat up.  

[kereskitta]

Starter for @castelleve​

The red velvet curtain remains closed as the announcer waltzes onto the stage.  It’s been an eventful night at the auction, and the chatter of the crowd must fall to a hush as he presents himself to the audience.  His smile is crocodile-wide, and every movement snaps like a whip.

“We have something very special available today!!  Frozen in time as if in crystal, just as darling as the day she died, the oldest child vampire ever discovered!  At 500 years old, one can only imagine the things she has encountered before arriving at this esteemed hall!  What stories she could tell- and what songs she could sing!  She dances, she plays violin, piano, and she can even cook!  But oh, her true talent lies in her voice, it is as like the choir of angels!  And that’s not all!  How often does a vampire this old come around?  Bones, blood, ash, all hold immense power.  Power that could be yours, dearest customers~!”

The curtain parts to reveal Elena, and her lashes flutter against her cheek at the sudden bright light.  She stands demurely, hands folded in front of her.  It would be no use to fight now; there’s no chance of escape at this stage.  Besides, she was told in no uncertain terms that if she makes a scene she wouldn’t be bought for her personality.  How many people in the audience want her for the butcher’s block?

Later.  Later she can escape.  She’s been in worse messes than this before, and she can be patient.  And then.... then they will pay.  Oh yes.

The announcer’s voice rings out through the hall, cheery as the sleaziest charlatan could only hope for.  “Bidding begins at-”

Elena stops paying attention, her whole world narrowing to a quiet place within.  She doesn’t care to know what she sells for, and she won’t recognize whoever buys her.  It’s all a blur until she’s carted back to her containment behind the stage.  The voice continues on dully from afar, presenting whichever curio or exotic delight came next on the roster.

[kereskitta]

starter for @temporaltravels

The streets are dark as pitch, cast into even darker shadows by streaks of pale moonlight shining wetly on cobblestone.  The cherry of a cigarette can be seen from a football field away in this gloom, but Scarlet is closer than that.  No, she needs to be close enough to hear the muffled conversation between the two men.  Two suspects.  She’s absolutely focused on making sure her heels don’t click as she gets just a bit closer, ear straining for the smallest snippet of information.

She doesn’t notice the other man crouching behind the buggy until she’s almost on top of him.  She goes statue-still first, the moment hanging on as their eyes meet.  Just how fucked is she right now? 

[kereskitta]

sunlight-rp​:

kereskitta​:

closed rp with @sunlight-rp

The saddest thing about being a real lil tyke is that sometimes you’re just too little play with the big boys (literally). Despite it’s pride at being for ‘all ages’ there was a limit to how long your average mother wanted a screaming two to five year old hanging around whilst the older ones wanted to have some fun with things the lil'one couldn’t access. If you didn’t have a family member or friendly neighbourino to drop them off with, then the Daycare was your best bet for peace and quiet. So long as you didn’t mind dropping them off with something non-organic. Besides, all the posters and late-night radio ads said they were safe! Completely safe. They wouldn’t lie to you right? The idea that people do that, just go out there and lie, didn’t occur to most of the parents at all. The daycare was huge, but underfunded. It could have done with a lot more green being thrown it’s way. Even so, something was keeping it spick and span. All the latest toys were neatly stacked, and there was plenty for a tot to climb, swing and slid on. Most of those things even had some kind of cushioning underneath, which was very ritzy indeed. The Attendant in this place, as shown on all the posters outside of the daycare walls, was a tall lanky animatronic (copyright pending) with a celestial jester theme (kids loved clowns, right?) which shifted based on the time of the day, or at least how much light was in the place. Even though it’s after hours, the lights are still bright in the daycare. The animatronic received a small <!> ping! to it’s sensors, indicating that the door had been opened. There was a stage high up on one of the walls, and the animatronic made it’s grand appearance from there. Not a child, or a security member, but absolutely a human coming to visit. Curious! With dexterity a human would kill for, Sun landed on the floor and cartwheeled to Scarlet’s side. Maybe once it’s eyes had been blue, like the posters, but it seemed like they’d burnt out and only the white outer casing remained. The smile was permanently fixed, but the outfit was puffy and flowing - all bright stripes and bells. “Hello there~! I’m sorry friend, the daycare is actually closed for the day-! Please come back tomorrow for more fun, fun, fun, at the Superstar Daycare!”

Scarlet gives a great big yelp, her hand flying to cover her beating heart.  This whole time she’s been watching out for humans, and it’s the ‘animatronic’ who catches her!  But hey, maybe she can work with this, if she thinks fast.

“Golly, fella, you just about jumped me out of my skin!” she says, giving him a wavering but still very bright smile.  “Didn’t nobody tell ya?  I’m here to talk to you!  I’m a journalist, you see, and I’ve been just itching to ask you some questions.  An interview with a metal man, won’t that just make the papers!”  

She tilts her head at him, watching carefully for how he’s taking it so far.  Some people will jump at the idea of being famous, but he might be considering the company’s reputation.  “It’d be great for business, I wager,” she tacks on, seeing if that is a little more enticing.

.... If you can entice one of these things anyway.  For all she knows, it might just say the same old thing again.  They’re supposed to be smarter than smart, but winning one over might still be a tall order.

[kereskitta]

closed rp with @sunlight-rp

Freddy Fazzbear’s reputation is as far from clean as it could get.  Sure, mother dearest is happier than anything to bring the children so as to keep them occupied, and sweethearts come to kiss in dark corners.  It’s more fun than a matinee, and cheaper than the casino.  But who can forget that tragedy from years ago, the strange and terrible disappearance of those poor children?  The newspapers were crying about it for weeks.

Scarlet lives newspapers.  She breaths them; she practically sweats ink.  What’s a dame like her doing, peeking into the dark corners of the world, keeping a gun in her pocket?  What’s a guy like you doing asking her, anyhow?

What is a dame like her doing here at Freddy Fazzbear’s Variety Hall?  Well, there are two answers to that question, the overarching and the immediate.

Ultimately, she’s here to get to the bottom of things.  Things have started getting dodgy around here again, and there’s even word of more kids going missing.  Now, she’s had her share of empty leads.  People get talking, old dirt gets dragged back up, people having a gas over dead fucking kids.  It could happen.  Or there might be something bent going on here.  

Currently, Scarlet is trespassing.  It’s not hard to do, which isn’t entirely what she was expecting.  She did buy a ticket, with some money that’d have gone real well towards her shoebox’s rent mind you! - and then just... hid in a bathroom stall.  Tucked her shoes up and kept real quiet like.  How much they use robotniks in this joint probably helped.

Her heels click on the tile as she slips out, looking about with a keen eye.  If she can find a security office she might get access to camera footage.  And so the search begins.

She begins in the Daycare.  The rest of the hall is open to all ages, and she’s heard mostly of child disappearances.  Looking in the most child centric part of the joint seems like good thinking.  She steps in and gives a low whistle, listening to it echo back at her.  This place is huge!!

[kereskitta]

💚

It’s time.  I’m finally going to do it.  It’s been a long time coming, something I should have done years ago.

Scarlet is based on noir movies, the heroes and heroines within, and more than anything the femme fatale.  The string of pearls, the blood red lips, the smoking gun.  The hips.  The mystery.

I’ve never seen a fucking noir movie in my life.

UNTIL TODAY!!!

Why did I base an entire character on a genre of movie I’ve never seen???  * makes that kind of ‘i unno’ noise that’s really hard to describe in writing *   But finally, finally, I will know what the fuck I’m talking about.

I’m starting with The Big Sleep on a friend’s recommendation.  If you guys have any feel free to yell them at me

[kereskitta]

                                     childish wonder.  it’s a hard state to lull a grown man into–  especially one that’s as tough as ol’ simon krit–  but that’s absolutely the state that has visited him.  brown eyes seem to glow amber with intrigue, head tilted upwards as if he’s attempting to see something above her head.  in truth, it’s just the energy of the room taking him somewhere else;  directing his attention in ways unbeknownst to him.  he’s never felt this incongruous before.

                                     it isn’t just her that returns when the magic fades away.  when presented with the plate, simon blinks, hard, as if stirring from a particularly vivid daydream.

                                      ❝ … wow, ❞  he says simply, a candid twinge of canadian seeping through as he stares at the offered plate.  it isn’t really the food that earns the expulsion  ( though that too looks good ), but she isn’t incorrect if she assumes that he’s impressed.  from the kitchen side, he retrieves a knife and fork and slices one of them in half.   ❝ now that’s what i’m talkin’ about! ❞  he exclaims as cheese and tiny slivers of chili pool from the incision.  if he wasn’t enthusiastic before, he certainly is now.

                                     he takes a forkful, lets it sit  ——  and then he smiles.  it’s such a different expression;  not riddled with sarcasm or malintent, just sheer, unadulterated happiness.  it makes him look like a different man.

                                      ❝ now y’know somethin’?  i think you’re a winner. ❞

... He’s really very appreciative, isn’t he?  By all accounts a lovely audience.  But he kidnapped her.  But she didn’t even know he could make that face!  But he kidnapped her.  But he looks so genuine, so sincere, and it’s so-

He kidnapped her.  He is a dangerous man, a killer.   She smiles anyway.

“Thank you, sir.  My magic is called ‘True Song’, and it is my deepest pride.  I... used to work mainly as a performer.  I know many more songs than this, though none so useful for cooking.”

‘Used to’.  Her mother and father always said she would perform for kings one day.  She had been well on her way to doing just that before all of... this.  Her hands tighten minutely in their grip on each other, and her smile turns melancholy.

“While I appreciate your praise, you should eat before it goes cold.”

[kereskitta]

                                     ❝ good, ❞  he replies in a measured tone, lending her back her space when he realises she’ll comply.  really, he can sympathise with her position.  he’s not heartless  ——  he assumes that having a deadly weapon pointed in her face, only for the man behind it to change his mind once he heard she had culinary expertise, has to suck.  that sort of fear, specific to someone feeling as if they’re going to lose their life, is a terrible burden to bear.  for that, he’ll let her pissy mood slide.

                                     the introduction of magic does surprise him, though.  lyles have very little in the way of special powers, save for their uncanny ability to scale most surfaces, and so hearing alchemy being so casually referred to makes his eyebrows raise high.

                                     ❝ what does magic even smell like? ❞  in any other context, it might have sounded like an insult, but simon’s genuine look of wonder nullifies the judgement in his tone.  even in books he’s read, he’s never really heard of magic’s aroma being described.  if he had to make an educated guess based on the fictional version he knew of, he’d guess it smelled of old books and soda fizz.

                                     ❝ use it.  i’ve never had a dish seasoned with hocus-pocus before! ❞

Elena’s shoulders finally lose some of that piano-wire tension at Simon’s expression, his voice, his genuine surprise.  He seems almost.... eager.

Alright then.  She’ll show you hocus-pocus.

She just nods, at first, and deepens her breathing.  Then she begins to hum.  A gentle tune fills the room, something building within the resonance.  An energy- pressure.  Simon learns what magic smells like.  It smells like spring rain, like ozone, electric in the way it tingles on your skin and in your lungs.  It isn’t bad.  It feels.... not unlike soda fizz.  

And then she begins to sing.  The light in the room shifts and becomes golden as honey, warm and molten.  She cannot help but smile, ever so gently, just to herself.  Nimble fingers pinch in the salt bowl, and the grains swirl in the bowl as if in a small wind.  The cheery bubbling of stock in a pot, the gentle coaxing of dough into balls, every step is an accompaniment in Elena’s performance.  Swept up in the fluttering in her chest, a second heartbeat where the song has nestled.  

Home, says the melody, Home, says the hiss of food cooking, Home, says the smell of a fresh meal, Home, Home, Home.

And then the song ends.  The smell of ozone drifts away, the light shifts as if it had been a trick of the imagination in the first place- and it may well have been.  Except two things still smell like magic.  The food that Elena has set out, and Elena herself- albeit very faintly, a smell that never completely leaves her.  

The magic doesn’t work if she doesn’t feel it in the moment, and it leaves Elena coming back to reality.  She feels better.  And she feels worse at the same time.

“The food is ready, sir.  I hope that you enjoy it.”

He should.  After all, she has put love in it just about as literally as she could.

[kereskitta]

Scarlet has been to a lot of very strange places for her investigations, and was beginning to think she could at least appear comfortable just about anywhere.  She has crossed her legs just-so in the study of a mad genius, strolled through the grounds of a coven of witches, and even made eyes at a werewolf in a drug den.  It’s all a part of the job, and she wouldn’t be Scarlet O’Conner if she backed down from a challenge.

But something about being in a therapist’s office has her feeling a little off kilter.  Psychiatrist, she corrects herself.  She knows perfectly well that Melissa- Dr. Richardson- has a medical degree- they met in college, after all.  They weren’t great friends or anything, but at the time Melissa did make a good impression.  Scarlet hopes that she did too, because she is asking Dr. Richardson for a favor.      

“I know you aren’t a criminal psychologist, but I’m not finding anybody else who’s willing to take this case.  I’d read these myself, and I have, but I just don’t know the vocabulary here.  I know somebody like you could get something out of it that I can’t.  Besides, I’ve heard that you sometimes take... unusual clients.”

And this is unusual, because the person under investigation is in Dr. Richardson’s line of business.  Or was, until he went full supervillain.

[kereskitta]

Sorry for being a little scarce, but as you can see, I am living my best life.  Well, as you can kind of see.  I’m a cook (amateur), not a photographer.  Who knew that cinnamon and vinegar went well together? 

[kereskitta]

       ❝ well ain’t you a peach! ❞

       it isn’t that he can’t read her discontentment  -  it’s that it amuses him greatly.  whenever somebody graces him with attitude that is discreet enough to go unpunished  ( in his book ),  he tends to combat it with an overly pleasant tone.  it feels very much like wiping his feet on a welcome mat that has ‘fuck off’ written across it.

       ❝ i’m not particularly in the mood for anything, and lucky for you, the        apocalypse has reeeally mellowed my tastes out.     i was quite fussy        before, y’know!  much harder to please… ❞

       it came with the territory.  being so good at cooking himself, his palette had become more refined, able to detect when something wasn’t quite right when he ate anything that he hadn’t had direct control over.  it isn’t that he thinks he’s the best chef in the world  -  he simply knows what he likes and leans towards those preferences.

       slowly, like a cat slinking its way towards her, he braces his hand against the kitchen wall and leans in–  not close enough to be offensive, but imposing, certainly.

       ❝ you like spicy food, peach?  i do.  chili ‘n’ cheese in batter?  nothing better. ❞

       there’s your hint.

Elena doesn’t retreat as Simon enters her space.  If anything she leans in, finally meeting his gaze head-on.  There she holds him for a moment, betraying her nerves only with how still she’s become.

“As you wish... sir.”

And then she turns her back on him, facing the cabinets so she can begin preparing the food.  Her hands move quickly, and she doesn’t give into the impulse to glance back as her slender fingers wrap around the hilt of a knife.

“I like spicy food alright, although batter... I am accustomed to being for special occasions.  A cultural difference, I suppose.”

She gives a short hum.  It’s not judgmental.  In fact, it’s a pointedly nonjudgmental hum.  And then for a time she lapses into quiet, the only sound the staccato chopping of chili peppers.

“... My people also use magic in their crafts.  That was the first thing I noticed when I arrived here; the smell.  The city I grew up in smelled like magic from cobble to spire.”

It is rambling, but not just rambling.  It’s a tacit beg for permission.

[kereskitta]

☀️for Scarlet

Are they a morning person? What is the first thing they do in the morning?

Haha, by choice or by vocation?  Scarlet has no sleep schedule- she’s where the story is, and crime doesn’t sleep. 

Before she gets hired by any publication, she tends to stay up late and sleep in.  The best sleuthing is best done in the wee morning hours.  But when she is hired, she has actual work hours on top of ‘extracurricular investigations’.  When does she sleep?  Oh, when she can.

The first thing she does when she wakes up is drink a fuckton of coffee.  I think it’s clear why.  

When she has some time to herself she wishes she could wake up early, but most of the time is forced to sleep in so she can make up for lost hours the rest of the week.