omniishambles

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Happy fathers day to all the sexy and terrible dads on this blog and my other ✌️

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Not on hiatus, but I'm also...not super feeling RP at this exact moment in time.

So consider me as gone walkabout instead ✌️

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“What do you need that for?” “Um, she tells me what she sees and I draw it.”

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Current state of affairs in the drafts:

Hannibal - 9 Abel - 16 Haymitch - 5 Katniss - 5 Lightman- 2 Barbossa - 1 Billy - 1 Harry - 4 Dracula - 2 Gregor - 1

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elise rainier in insidious chapters 1 and 2.

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sorry if i was a bitch i probably wanted to go home

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@st4ypuft // & RAY

She couldn't help but smile at her own mug, noticing the logo emblazoned across it when she set it down on the table. They weren't in it for the money, that was obvious. That was one of the things that had made her eager to offer her help.

She'd crossed paths with many a fake and a charlatan in this line of work.

"Class three? You boys really are efficient, huh?" Elise replied, taking the folder and flipping through. They had a whole classification system? It made her feel very out of her depth. She wasn't a scientist. She was a psychic. But, going by what the reports said (in varying detail depending on who'd written it up), their science was struggling.

Perhaps her old fashioned touch was exactly what they needed.

"I'd like to take a look around the house, certainly. Do we know anything about the previous owners?" She asked, making her way through the folder. They'd already checked the wiring and the appliances in the house. Had conducted interviews with the couple, assessing their mental state.

Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that could logically explain what they were experiencing.

"It may be that something is keeping her there. Whether that's a physical object tied to her death, or another entity altogether."

"my   autograph?"   ray   shook   his   head,   chuckling.   he   never   considered   himself   a   celebrity,   even   with   all   of   the   merchandise   the   ghostbusters   produced.   the   recognition   was   nice,   something   they   never   had   at   the   university,   but   ray   enjoyed   his   time   out   of   the   spotlight.   "only   if   you   promise   not   to   sell   it."

he   returned   to   his   seat,   reaching   for   his   own   mug   this   time.   half-full   and   cold,   but   it   would   do.   "mm-"   he   swallowed,   nodding.   "all   too   well,   unfortunately."   ray's   mind   couldn't   help   but   wander   to   peck.   it   would've   been   easy   to   empathize   with   the   guy   if   he   hadn't   been   such   a   prick.   ray   would   never   understand   why   he   chose   to   take   everything   so   personally.   "people   fear   what   they   don't   understand,   and   that   fear   often   leads   to   frustration."

with   a   sigh,   ray   shifted   through   a   stack   of   papers   before   finding   a   folder.   "which   is   exactly   where   we're   at   with   this   case,   elise."   he   placed   the   manila   folder   in   front   of   her.   big   red   letters   were   scrawled   across   the   tab,   reading:    EVERGREEN   BANSHEE.

“we   thought   it   would   be   a   simple   call   -   an   old   farmhouse   in   upstate   new   york   had   gone   up   for   auction,   a   young   couple   had   bought   it;   however,   once   they   began   renovations,   the   hauntings   started.”

"initially,   we   labeled   her   a   class   three,   but   i'm   starting   to   think   she   has   unfinished   business   here.   we   searched   the   property,   took   reading   after   reading,   and   still   can't   find   what's   tethering   her   to   the   farmhouse.   perhaps   you   could   reach   out   to   her   and   get   some   more   information?"   there   was   a   hopeful   gleam   in   ray's   eyes   as   he   watched   elise.

"she's   certainly   bringing   down   the   market   value,"   he   joked.   "i   can't   imagine   how   they're   going   to   flip   it."

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@st4ypuft // & RAY

Elise shook Ray's hand, chuckling at his enthusiastic welcome. Whatever trepidation she'd felt about flying across the country to meet this man melted away, immediately at ease in his company. Then he was hurrying off to the coffee pot, and she gently waved his barrage of questions away.

"Oh, you don't have to fuss over me! I feel like I should be asking for your autograph." She teased, grinning as he came back with a cup. And truthfully, she was glad for the aroma of coffee that wafted her way. It had been a long flight.

"And Ms Rainier was my mother. Please, call me Elise."

As she took a sip of her coffee she glanced around, seeing a kind of organised chaos at work. And clear evidence that a group of men lived and worked here, that was obvious.

"You're too kind. Unfortunately people can be scathing about things they don't understand, especially if they've never had a paranormal experience. But I'm sure you know all about that, don't you?"

it   wasn't   unheard   of   to   have   repeat   hauntings,   but   there   was   something   peculiar   about   this   case.   none   of   their   equipment   could   flush   it   out,   and   the   guys   were   nearly   at   the   end   of   their   rope.   while   egon   worked   himself   to   death   in   the   lab,   ray   searched   elsewhere   for   an   answer.

a   trail   of   articles   led   him   to   elise   rainier,   a   woman   the   media   described   as   a   demonologist.   oh,   but   she   was   much   more   than   that,   and   ray   could   tell   she   was   the   real   deal.   he   was   met   with   ridicule   when   he   initially   mentioned   her,   particularly   from   venkman,   but   was   given   the   green   light   when   egon's   research   turned   up   short.

ray   had   always   been   more   open-minded   than   his   colleagues.   there   were   things   in   this   world   that   nobody   could   explain,   that   nobody   had   ever   studied   before.   for   all   they   knew,   they   could   be   the   anomaly,   and   the   ghosts   could   be   the   norm.   he   was   interested   in   what   elise   had   to   say,   to   understand   how   she   operated.   ray   had   so   many   questions,   though   he   knew   they   had   little   time.

a   soft   voice   broke   his   concentration,   gaze   lifting   from   his   book.   a   woman   stood   in   front   of   him,   blonde   and   radiant.   her   energy   was   inviting,   warmer   than   most;   this   was   undoubtedly   elise.

ray   stood   up,   excitedly   stepping   out   from   behind   his   desk.   he   approached   her,   gently   taking   her   hand   in   his.

"ms.   rainier,   i'm   so   glad   you're   here."   he   shook   her   hand   before   gesturing   to   the   seat   opposite   his.   “please,   have   a   seat.   how   was   your   flight?   you   must   be   exhausted.   would   you   like   some   coffee?”

before   she   could   answer,   he   was   already   heading   to   the   coffee   pot   and   grabbing   a   mug.   "your   work   is   phenomenal,"   he   commented,   looking   over   his   shoulder   with   a   smile.   some   coffee   missed   the   cup   due   to   his   lack   of   attention,   spilling   a little.   "i'm   sure   those   news   outlets   didn't   do   you   and   your   team   justice,   though,   they   never   do."   ray   cleaned   the   side   of   the   mug   with   a   napkin   before   bringing   it   over.   "i   have   sugar   and   creamer,   too.   whatever   you   need,   just   let   me   know."

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INSIDIOUS: THE LAST KEY (2018)

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@st4ypuft // & RAY

New York was a world away from LA, in more ways than one. Elise had always wanted to visit, to see The Big Apple for herself. But now she had the opportunity, it wouldn't just be a vacation.

There were a lot of strange things happening in the city, all kinds of weird stories on the TV and in magazines. Seemingly at the centre of this was the so called Ghostbusters. And how she and Carl had giggled at that, wondering if they should take up a catchy mantle for themselves.

At least they seemed legitimate. After doing some research, Elise was satisfied that these guys were the real deal, albeit handling the paranormal in a vastly different way to herself. It was so...public. It made her anxiety spike, the thought of broadcasting her skills like that. The wounds from her childhood ran deep.

But she wanted to help people. And that was why, when Raymond Stantz called out of the blue, she was quick to jump at the chance to offer her expertise.

A doctorate in parapsychology was one thing. Her other skills, however...they were what he really needed.

Stepping out of the cab, she looked up at the large sign above the firehouse, the ghostbusters logo gleaming down at her. The receptionist inside seemed stern, but friendly, directing Elise through the building.

"Dr Stantz? Elise Rainier, we spoke on the phone?"

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@hvbris // & BROOK

Hands now clean of frosting and sausage grease, Hannibal went over to inspect the cake, head tilted as he examined her work.

"I believe the British have an appropriate word for this." He replied, a faint smile tracing the edges of his mouth. "Twee. Like something out of a childs storybook. Certainly a lighter subject for Will to have in his home, and- I suspect- beneficial as well."

While fondant was rarely used in his kitchen, he could see the thought that the artist had put into their work. He noticed the frog with the fishing rod, a clear nod to Will's favourite past time.

Hannibal had seen the row of fishing rods lined up on the wall when he came in, but he hadn't had the opportunity to explore the entirety of the house as intended. Perhaps there was still time.

"Are you staying long? I think perhaps you may be just what Will needs against the darkness he faces every day at the FBI."

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐁𝐀𝐋 & 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊@omniishambles

“Oh- right, sure!” she answered, noticing the frosting stains she had left on his hands. Visibly embarrassed, she brushed her palms on her apron -green, and covered in little frogs. “Sorry about that.”

She watched as he unwrapped a sausage, tore it into little bits, and gave them to the dog. The attention earned him a smile, much warmer than before. If there was one thing Brook had in common with her uncle, it was her love for animals. So of course, she found it sweet that the man had thought about bringing a treat for the dogs!

“You’ve come prepared! Sausage’s a sure way to get them to like you!”

Leading him to the kitchen, she seemed to blush a little bit when Dr. Lecter went to wash his hands -again, it was her fault! But she coughed the awkwardness away, or at least tried to.

“It’s not much,” she explained, gesturing toward the cake, “but I like baking.” And she liked frogs. Clearly, she liked frogs. Two little fondant frogs were sitting on the edge of the cake, one of them holding a fishing rod.

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@governmentofficial // & MYCROFT

"What are husbands for?" Abel quipped, busy with suturing the wound.

He'd lied to his first wife all the time. It wasn't exactly difficult. She was always too drunk to know the difference, barely heard anything he said as it was. But, as much as he supposed the younger man was right, he didn't like the idea of lying to Fish.

It wouldn't hurt. They'd need to come up with a good excuse for their visible cuts and bruises, of course, but he also appreciated that she'd be worried for their safety. And it was her own safety that Abel would rather she be worried about.

"What're your thoughts, hm? Can't exactly say we both took a tumble on account of our bad legs."

It was fair enough for Abel to steer Mycroft away from trying to take charge of the situation. Even though he wasn't the expert, he knew enough about basic medical care to have a reasonably informed opinion, which meant that he undoubtedly had things to say. Fortunately, though, he was a little preoccupied with the pain, and that prevented him from launching into any kind of lecture on the importance of unobscured vision during surgery.

Mycroft did do as he told and did his best to stay still, but he didn't stay completely silent:

"We can't let Fish know about his," he muttered. The matter was on Mycroft's mind for good reason - she was not going to be happy at all about anything that had occurred! - but he was failing to keep his thoughts to himself for one simple reason: it was a distraction. While this wasn't the first time he had been injured or seen bloody conflict, and he very much doubted it would be the last, Mycroft was only human; he could get stressed just like anybody else, and, unsurprisingly, a stab wound did tend to be a universal stressor.

"We'll have to come up with a cover story once we're done here. You're going to have to practice lying to her."

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Gonna be tidying up the followers list tomorrow.

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So I listen to the wind in the trees The sound of the air Your voice is lost in the breeze When you're not there Now the music's too sad without you Silence is all I can listen to now

For @hvbris // Lenore Dove & Haymitch

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@imprvdente // & FISH

Of course he was miserable. It was hell. Being sober meant having sober thoughts, meant having access to things in his brain that he didn't want to ever see again. He couldn't. Especially not after all these years. The memories that tore out his teenage heart were a little fuzzy now, which made it even worse.

He was doomed to remember the pain and forget the beautiful details of what he'd once had.

Licking dry lips, Haymitch leaned back in his seat, trying his best not to reconsider her offer.

"I hate to break this to you, but the best thing an enemy can be is nice. Lulls us all into a nice, false sense of security." He leaned forward again after observing her for a moment, squinting as he tried to read her face. "And as sweet as it'd be to be lulled...I know Snow."

𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 & 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 @omniishambles

“You’re very cynical,” Fish hummed, studying him with a smile. As if victors were not always cynical. As if she wasn’t herself jaded and disillusioned. Gullibility was a luxury she had left behind many years ago. And while Plutarch and Coin were more easily tricked, Haymitch wasn’t.

Of course he wasn’t.

“If your sobriety is going well, I’d hate to ruin it. I just had a feeling you were a little bit miserable, being so dry in a place like 13.”

“I was just trying to be nice.” A shrug. “You keep treating me like the enemy, but I’m here just like the rest of you.”