mindsccds

[mindsccds]

would you look at that! i never did a blog in a single day, yay me! hello yello to you all! castiel here, bringing you a brian yu from monster prom and camp! directly from mindsccds, i moved him so much there that i just made him a blog all for himself. also on its own account!

two pages are still to do, but not vital for now - so may i have a little promotion?? thank you, and have a wonderful, wonderful day. <3

[mindsccds]

i left you people alone for one afternoon.

[mindsccds]

i will make a blog for brian specifically, probably on its own account too. i just feel i like write brian so much that he deserves his own space, since i also write him a lot here (well, wrote, but... i’m working on returning). plus, he became a comfort muse for me somehow, and god knows how much i need some comfort lately.

granted, if i can return to write in general first.

[mindsccds]

wiickedsliice​.

“What am I– What are ye doin’ here?!”

For a moment, he almost feels like slapping him. Just a second before he could return to control himself, occupying his hand by rubbing his eyes… and finding hismelf smudging some blood on them too.

   Great. Fuckin’ fantastic.

“Ye’r sittin’ there, covered in blood ‘n bruises, I-I’ve seen ye gettin’ almost choked to death ‘n ye even ask why I’m here?! If ye liked the thrill of bein’ almost murdered ye could waltz in th’ bay wit’ yer dick out instead o’ wastin’ time in this place!  What th’ hell were ye thinkin’?!”

he sees the wish to hurt him. despite dismas holding it back, these are intentions and gestures that someone grown in violence recognizes. reynauld therefore winces back, his hands automatically going to protect the head for that fraction of a moment before the highwayman recollects. yet, they don’t leave their position, resting on the side of the head, as he’s trying to stop the other’s words. he’s shaking, his eyes open wide but pointed at the ground, breath heavy. it took so little, to suddenly make him panic so much. a sign that, probably, he ignored his well being and the pauses he was supposed to take for his sanity, to get there.

i’ve seen ye gettin’ almost chocked to death! oh no, h-how long has he been there?! no, no, he wasn’t supposed to see that...! he wasn’t supposed t-to see how weak he is...! if ye liked the thrill of bein’ almost murdered ye could waltz in th’ bay! no... no...!

« y-you d--idn’t le-let me--!! »

his voice shakes even stronger than his movements, words getting out with such difficulty to be hard understand some of the letters he pronounces. he seems so close to cry, with his breath getting heavier and heavier - and as his fingers clench the hair, it starts to become clear that there’s some fury in his heart, too. not towards dismas... but towards himself.

how could he be so... stupid...?! how could he let himself be caught...?!

« you-- c-consider me t--too weak, y-y-you h-haven’t brin--ged me wi-with you for-- months--!! i’m not s--strong eno--enough, if i ca--can’t win he--here, then-- then--!! ». suddenly, his stuttering becomes a desperate, yet weary scream. and he gets even smaller.

       « g-go-- away--! G--GO AWAY--!! »

[mindsccds]

dxthemxnstermash / oz.

What a circle of fuckery. The more Brian get scared, despite the attempts at seeming way braver than he actually was, the more Oz felt bad, growing bigger and more messed up; the more he grew and the louder the voices of the Phobias forming and dying all over his body hissed at him, the more terrified Brian got.

It’s almost ironic.  The zombie really wanted to help him.  Oz knows he’s a good friend who wanted nothing but to make sure he was safe, and yet his presence alone just made things worse and worse.

   “Briȧ̸̧a̴̫͕̩̓́̑a̶̬̎̆͋̅ą̸̰̳͌̾͐͗̅̉͋͊̔̏͆̆̔͝͝A̸̧͉̺̮̞̭͕̻̜̫͚̯̭͔̘̠̅̀͑̋́̓̓̓̔̓̉͂̈̏͆͑͜Ą̴̨̛̱͎͇̙͚̰̣͙̝̯͇̓̒̾͌͆̊̓̓́̋̾̄̒͜ͅ-”

Hm. Ok, no.  It’s better to avoid talking, right now.  Oz tried to tell him to leave, that solitude will likely be the only way he’ll return to normal, and yet all he can do is let out a guttural growl and slam a fist against the wall, claws digging into the concrete like it was butter.

                 Please leave.      Please leave.      Don’t be a goddamn hero–

what is happening...? what the hell is happening to oz...?! brian can just look as the friend’s body becomes more and more twisted and distant from the one he’s used to see him as, voices and faces appearing and disappearing everywhere, too fast to even try to recognize them. is his voice in there? is his fear in there? he’s... he’s just making things worse and worse...!

brian tries to take a deep breath, tries to calm down for him, tries to stop his growing panic - but it just takes oz to say his name in that twisted, terrifying voice for him to lose all that last calm he was so desperately holding to. his hand rushes to the mouth, suffocating his panicked scream without really knowing why. it’s not like he can hide the fear by just not making oz hear a yell...! things get even worse when the wall is hit with such violence, the growl filling his ears, and at that point his survival instinct forces its way in his movements. the back lifts from the door, and hands desperately look for the handle, eyes glued on oz. where is it, where is it, WHERE IS IT-?!

it takes him barely a second to find it, but it seems like eternity. the door is opened as fast as his shaky movements allow him to, as finally the heavy breathing leaves space for words.

« i-i-i’ll go look for help-! » he stutters, so strongly like he rarely has done before. « he--help, we-we n-n-need help--!! »

and then he bolts out of the bathroom, panic making him just take the first direction he can think of without knowing WHERE exactly look for help. he... he first needs to get away from oz, he needs to think, he needs to think...!!

[mindsccds]

wiickedsliice.

Dismas promised himself to never step in that damned circus ever again. He didn’t miss that chaos, all those people wanting nothing but seeing a good massacre, the occasional flirting of the ticket taker… He’s been there, done that, and had enough of it, so when the tents reappeared in the Hamlet the Highwayman made sure to remind everyone to stay as far away from it, that if they wanted easy money in exchange of broken bones the dungeons were way better.

So, well… when Reynauld, of all people, was caught by the bartender going back and forth to that hellish place he rushed to make sure he wasn’t going to get killed and… well.

   He truly wanted to keep the promise he made to himself.    No more battles for the audience. No more dealing with big ugly bastards.

         …but, well. The Crusader had some time to rest, at least, before Dismas could stomp out of the tent to tower over the younger man, full of that other idiot’s blood.

“YOU.” 

…Full of blood and frustration, it seems. Taking care of a meatheat moron wasn’t enough to calm him down, huh.

“What th’ FUCK were ye thinkin’?!”

he... should have stood up a little before, shouldn’t he? reynauld was just waiting for his breath to return a little bit more normal before returning to action, but all his efforts to calm it down were completely ruined by the attempted heart attack that the highwayman gave him, by suddenly appearing in front of him. and he’s not sure if what scares him the most is the fact that he’s full of blood, the tone he uses, or if it’s dismas in general. either way, he can’t keep inside a terrified « J-JESUS CHRIST--!! » and push himself a little back, suddenly trembling like he got a high fever.

that was not supposed to happen! the highwayman wasn’t supposed to be there!

god...! god, god, no, no, no...!!

« s-s-sir di-dismas...! ». his voice is shaking so hard, it’s hard for him to even pronounce syllables. without noticing, he started to become smaller and smaller, terrified by that presence in front of him. it’s like he’s seen a ghost... no, worse. it’s like he’s seen his father. « wh--what are you do-doing here...?! y... you said y-y-you were g-going to s-s-sleep...! why a-are you here--?! »

[mindsccds]

dxthemxnstermash / scott.

Oh he’s in for a game. Oooohhoho he’s IN. Brian leans in, and at the same time the werewolf freezes, vibrating lightly in hardly contained excitement.

Any second now. Aaaaaany second now…!

–and as soon as the other jumps into action he gets on fours, does a 180° and BOLTS IT. It’s ON!!!!!

ah! he missed him! brian’s shoes burn the ground as the first sprint brings to a second one, back leaning forward and his stamina used just a tiny bit more. scott is fast, both in reaction time and in running, but brian is smart, when he wants to. and he knows just a tiny bit of parkour...!

near the closest wall, brian leaps, one feet landing on it and immediately parting from it as he gives himself a strong push. one step, two steps, three steps - and he’s jumping! this time he’s tackling you, scott!!

[mindsccds]

royalreef.

      Whether or not he likes it, there’s the tiny pink fishcroc at his side, and Miranda’s refusing to leave. Hell, even without there being any real room for her to sit next to Brian, she’s quite snugly pressed to his side. A flat, scaled nose nudges at the arm of his coat, fins tilted back. The best comparison would be to a cat - Miri, rubbing her face against Brian, trying to cheer him up in the same way as any feline showing affection and marking their favorite person both.

      Ah. Okay, so the princess was really concerned that he was upset, or angry, or otherwise not doing well, and Miranda was… well, Miranda. Making people feel worse was easy! Manipulating them and using their emotions against them was even easier. It was an entirely different matter to genuinely try to cheer someone up, and she tended to get overexcited and set in her ways and sometimes that made her oversee much more obvious solutions —-

      But, damnit, she was trying, and if that was good enough to make Liam Prom King, then it was enough to attempt now.

      Bright blue eyes flashed open as he confirmed that, sure, he wouldn’t mind a song - already eliciting a giddy little chirp from Miranda. “Yes!!! I’ll sing a good song for you - oh! Like—- ”

      A few sharp, half-hummed notes were made, rapidfire, as Miranda found the tune, small smile playing upon her lips, before she began proper.

      Her eyes closed shut again, leaning her head against Brian’s arm, sending tiny vibrations up and down from the humming noise in her throat. It definitely wasn’t a land song, nor was it a particularly complex song. Her mouth didn’t even open, humming it as it were. Yet for its simplicity, didn’t mean it wasn’t beautiful.

      A soft, warm tune. Some strange harmony lurked within the melody, a reverb more akin to someone singing in an operahouse than in a classroom, floating and flowing with a honeyed pattern. It washed in and over itself, doubling, tripling the effect, like multiple people singing instead of merely one. To compare it to anything, a lullaby might be closest. Steady. Thrummed with a comforting pace. Drifting softly on the air like siren’s song, and though there was no compulsion to it, the comfort and ease of any such song would surely be there.

      And just for Brian, just to try and make his day a little better, when Miri grew so concerned about him sitting here, all alone.

mhh, alright... she’s rubbing her face against him. brian doesn’t really answer to that, but more because he’s not sure what to tell her than for other reasons. he’s not exactly in discomfort, but with miranda, you never know - especially since he feels pretty much forced to move a bit on the chair, leaving her a bit of space to sit. since he was sitting near the wall, this only makes him lean on it, and with her on the other side he’s pretty much officially staying there to listen, willing or not.

... well. alright. if it makes her happy, sure.

brian rests his shoulder and head on the wall, chin leaning on the open hand and gaze distractingly keeping an eye on her as she begins singing. and the song, it’s... so calming, he must admit it. though weird for his ears, almost difficult to follow somehow, it gently embraces him and slowly bring him to a much calmer place in his mind. slowly, his eyes close, letting the melody bring him even a bit further.

it’s a weird sensation. it’s not like his thoughts suddenly chase to exist, but it’s more like the song is putting order in them, putting aside the worries just for a little bit. he can’t say it relaxes him completely, but it does a great job at stopping the mess of words stuck in his head. even more... it actually makes him a little sleepy. which isn’t uncommon for him to be fair, but not when he’s too lost in his thoughts.

his head rests a bit more heavily on the hand, his breath getting calm and regular. slowly, he gets close to slumber...

[mindsccds]

dxthemxnstermash / oz.

He doesn’t move when the door is finally opened, expecting a little groan, or maybe for Brian to walk out to take a breath of fresh air, but as his friend fell against the wall, making enough noise to rattle lightly that old stall despite the slowness of his movements, Oz knew that he wasn’t going to stand up anytime soon. The phobic leans lightly, peeking in to make sure that at least he’s ali– …well, not dead. Not double dead. Hoping that the look he and his little buddies give is comforting enough, given the lack of a mouth at the moment - one that softens even more at the other’s request.

Aw.

“Well! Who am I to say no?” he chirps, walking in… flushing the toilet just to be sure and getting on his knees, opening his arms wide open before giving Brian the biggest, tightest, kind of mildly tepid hugs.

“There, there. It sucks but at least you’re going to feel better now.” Oz keeps on whispering, with the voice of someone who had one experience too much with that kind of stuff.

as oz opens his arms wide, brian attempts to imitate the gesture just to get a little heartening laugh, but he just proves himself too weak. he can just lean towards the friend, more or less bumping into him as he’s hugged, and just eventually his hands manage to wearily get on oz’s back, more or less hugging him back. and though oz is typically pretty cold, he can notice in that contact that brian is, for once, even colder this time.

the undead lets out a pained and annoyed groan, chin resting on the other’s shoulder and his head tilting ever so slightly, getting closer to his.

« i hope... » he mutters. « last time i vomited... heck, i was a kid. i was still alive... »

his own words hit him like a train a few moments after. i was still alive. his eyes, closed a moment before to enjoy at least a little bit the moment, hatch slightly, revealing a suddenly melancholic look. he sighs between oz’s arms, and he might notice his body started to tremble just a little bit.

« ... i haven’t been thinking about me alive for... so long... »

another long, sad sigh. his hands move slowly on oz’s back, enclosing him in a better, and suddenly even more needed, hug. his eyes eventually close again - maybe to hold in something, maybe because he’s simply too tired to keep them open. he can’t really say himself.

« ... this sucks... » he murmurs. « this sucks so much... »

[mindsccds]

schattenmagier.

[ Pin! // Accepting! ]

castielrphub said: @mindsccds​ / ugh AND don’t, from either frank or whoever else that might inspire you more! :3c also from any blog if you prefer someone not on the multimuse~

Send “UGH” to pin my muse against the wall from FURY

Send “DONT” to pin my muse against the wall to prevent them from LEAVING

Huh. This was not the place she wanted to go. That’s what the mage thought when she found herself in front of some snow covered, and somehow decayed looking building. She takes a look at her surroundings, and she would guess this is, or rather was, some kind of ski resort. After a moment of admiring the scenery, the woman finally got moving, and went to explore that building a bit. If she is already here she can at least take a look around. To her surprise the place was apparently not all abandoned given that there was a lit fireplace inside. Though it was still rather cold inside, so Lilli was thankful that she wore a winter jacket. Still she wondered who the hell was living in this god forsaken place…

To much in thought right now, the woman noticed to late the sprinting footsteps towards her, before she was pushed and pinned against a wall inside the buidling. And by the way she was pushed she would guess that the person was kinda pissed. Her eyes then focus on the other, or rather, at his mask. And she just stares at him for a moment… before she noticed that he had indeed a knife. Ah… But after he hadn’t tried to use it yet there is the chance that she won’t send him flying in a second.

“ Rude much, huh? Didn’t you got teached zhat you don’t push girls? “

She spoke, much to calm for a situation like this, and lightly tilted her head to the side. Yeah, she is absolutely not afraid of some punk with a knife. Lilli had fought against worse people and creatures before after all.

“ How about you back off a bit, boy? You are kinda in my… personal space. “

walking through the mist, frank hoped to get to the ormond resort without survivors to chase, for once - and the entity seemed glad, for once, because his desire became reality. he lost count of the days he spent there - are there even days in there, really? -, but it must be around christmas, to make the entity so accomodating. hope it doesn’t want anything in return...

he was taking a bit of time upstairs, in a corner. simply enjoying the silence, for once, the mask off and deep breathes of cold air coming in and out of his lungs. he has his old walkman between the hands, but the headphones are dangling from his hands instead of being in his ears. he doesn’t want to listen to music, for once - which in returns lets him hear the steps getting inside the building. at them, he lifts his head without particular interest, waiting to hear a voice, because everyone talks in there. either the rest of his legion calling him to know where he is, or a survivor asking if someone was there, which was more probable. it’s not like he was expecting to actually stay calm in there for much as he’d like, anyway.

it’s not hearing any voice that makes him confused, and pushes him to stand up and check. and the sensation he feels in seeing that woman is... weird.

we’re not talking about love, oh hell no. it’s more a sensation of something wrong. he’s so used to feel the auras of other survivors and killers around there, that seeing someone that doesn’t appear to have one is... strange. she seems like an intruder in a realm that isn’t hers. and though he hates to admit it, it... scares him.

he still can’t understand the doings of the entity - hell, he doesn’t want to understand them -, but that seems like a bad prank from it. is there a reason she’s there? is this a test? what the hell should he demonstrate, again?!

when he lowers the mask on the visage, his eyes suddenly filled with fury, it’s not particularly towards her, but towards it. or maybe, it is caused by it, as it somehow is able to twist his emotions and make them way, way worse. he’s not really sure - he doesn’t care. all he can think about is that he hates her being there. he hates her being there!!

he almost doesn’t realize to suddenly be rushing down the stairs. only when she’s pushed against the wall, his knife near her throat and his breath slow and deep, he gets a little bit back into himself. a matter of seconds, yet his situation is already so much different than before. both of theirs.

he tilts slightly his head as she talks, with what can appear as the confusion of a little dog. she talks so calmly... how? is she so used to be in the middle of violence? sometimes even he is not used of what his hands do. that, somehow, makes his rage rise up a little bit. there’s something in his head. it whispers beautiful lies to him... beautifully violent.

             how about you back off a bit, boy?

« ... no. »

the hand holding the knife rises suddenly, and violently lowers on her shoulder, without warning. he doesn’t simply want to wound her - he wants to hit her so strongly to nail her to the wall. an impulsive gesture - and to what will come after, he’ll think in a moment.

[mindsccds]

  when i look in the mͫiͥrͬrͬoͦrͬ - i know what i see

         one with the ∂ємσи - one with the вєαѕт

[mindsccds]

send 💋 to brush a finger on my muse’s lips

[mindsccds]

I’ve seen this post going around saying ‘they’re a bad rp partner if your threads with them always come second to their threads with someone else’ and like ????? no? not the case, y’all. not at all. you’re human. you’re allowed to have more muse for a certain thread, or gel better with some writers than with others. it’s okay. it’s normal! and you better not let anyone guilt trip you for not prioritising their threads. this is a hobby - you’re allowed to have preferences and act on them. idk, this might be an unpopular opinion, but this is the hill I’ll die on \o/

[mindsccds]

bro i have no tags and only halfway through writing my doc but– 

This is Ginko, ojisan enthusiast, bringing you a Fandomless OC. A back alley doctor who’s trying to do good for the sake of his orphaned niece. Probably dangerous, probably ex-yakuza, probably has a sick ass spider tattoo on his neck. 

Please reblog/like if you’re interested in rping! 

[mindsccds]

⤑   @sxnguinesxnctum  /  half-plotted.

lautrec’s arrhythmic steps resonate through the empty corridors, accompanied by his weak breathes. he’s proceeding slowly, his hand resting on the wall as if scared to lose his path if he’ll leave it for just a moment. another hand is pressing on the chest, shaking ever so slightly at the feeling of... something... inside of him, missing.

he can’t explain the sensation. he can’t say if he’s lacking something, if he’s maybe feeling sick, or else. he would say the second - because of his hallucinations, they are returning stronger. he keeps seeing those shadows on the walls, and sometimes he feels someone... pressing a hand on his shoulder ever so gently... but no one is ever there, when he tries to reach for it.

when he finds himself in front of the vicar’s door, he has a long moment of hesitation. he can’t but feel he would just be interrupting the vicar for a feeling of lack, for... wanting to have something stupid as company. but on the other hand... his gaze lifts, slowly. the shadow is there, more vivid than ever, in front of the door. it’s trying to keeping it close, but its incorporeal body can’t do anything to prevent him from opening it. lautrec sees it open his venta black mouth, as he’s seen it do so many times in the last few hours. but this time, a sound comes out of it.

he can’t even describe it. it’s like it comes form inside his head, acute and low at the same time, a whisper and a desperate scream that makes him cover his ears in a natural, scared, and useless gesture. it’s saying something, but he can’t understand what. it’s seems familiar, yet so distant.

his hands tremble to the door, and finally knock, though weakly. one, two, three knocks. « m-my... vicar... » he calls, leaning on the door. « m... may... may i co-come in...? »

[mindsccds]

⤑   @wiickedsliice​  /  plotted.

the cheers of the audience filled his ears as his consciousness faded. reynauld could perceive the strength of their applauses, beating on his chest that expanded in search for air with more and more difficulty. his opponent didn’t even need the wall, to keep him lifted from the ground by his throat. the crusader’s word was on the ground, too distant for him to reach even with his feet. hands beat as long as he could on the other’s, trying to force them open, to gather some air to last just a little longer - but it was all useless. everything started to fade, his arms fell limp on the side, and only the no killing rule of the butcher circus made his opponent leave the grip on him, throwing him in the sand on the ground and saving him from death. reynauld took deep, suffering breathes, his arms trying to lift him up once again, but not even managing to do it slightly. the winner was announced, with a voice barely recognizable by him - and it wasn’t his name. hands grasped him by the arms, and dragged him out without ceremonies.

reynauld came completely to senses only in the circus’ hallway, just outside the pit. one of the servants was slapping him, making sure he was actually alive - and seeing his eyes returning lucid enough, he decided he was satisfied and left him there, on the ground, with his sword by his side. the crusader stayed on the ground for some seconds, staring at the ceiling with the most weary and pained gaze he had been since he started going there. only later, slowly, he stood up and headed down the corridor, to the back of the circus and the outside. and there, he sat in a corner, trying to simply breathe - and there he is now still, after ten minutes.

he’s been thinking, for the most part, between a pained breath and the other. no one is around there, giving him some nice silence after the confusion heard inside the pit. if he thinks he has to go back inside in very little, it gives him the shivers... yet, he must be strong enough to do it. it’s his decision, he decided what he had to do, and now he has to go on. taking breaks would just mean returning on his steps, and being just... weak again, even more.

a deep, tired, sad sigh. this is bringing to nothing... he should just return inside, instead of staying there, overthinking again.

[mindsccds]

i just remembered that when i wrote skipper a lot, i thought about his alternative version in a zombie setting and i thought of his “role” in it, and i came to the conclusion that he wouldn’t be the hero. he would be the one going completely crazy over paranoia and stress, and that would eventually lead the group only to trouble, so much to be left behind. and holy moly, if i get to the point of writing down his sheet again, i should remember about this and put a verse for it.