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;;sorry for the radio silence everyone! Things have been kinda rough on my end and I’m a few semesters away from getting my degree so I haven’t had much time to write! I’m gonna try to find more time as soon as I can though

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Everything would be fine. Or at least, that’s what she kept telling herself. She found her ally, and with their combined strengths they could finally escape this hell hole together. She was so sure of it now, could see it so perfectly in her mind... It clouded her judgement. Hope was so long forgotten that the ease accompanying it subdued her, muffling the static and the overactive thoughts swirling in her mind.

Lulled into a brief sense of calm, Charlie had began to nod along to what Eddie was saying before she realized what he really meant. Wide eyes blink as they look up at him, before her head shakes in disagreement. She wants to speak to him out loud but she’s gunshy, trusting him to cut the stitches holding her lips shut seemed like a bit of a stretch right now. It doesn’t matter, she’ll make do. Make it work, just like she always does. Try it again, from the top. One delicate hand raises to rest upon Eddie’s chest over his heart, while the other moves to her own heart. The gesture perhaps more sensual than she meant it to be, she locks eyes with him for a moment before taking his hand again, this time in both of her own. A step backwards towards one of the doors, unaware if it led farther in or closer to her goal of freedom. Hopefully he would understand.

It’s clear he doesn’t want her to go, maybe he just doesn’t want to be alone. She keeps her hands on his much larger one, assuring him that whatever she wants— she wants to do it with him. With luck it’ll be enough to convince him, but it’s far from what she’s willing to do to escape by now. Hell, she’d even wear one of his dresses and let him carry her over the threshold to freedom like a couple of newlyweds if it meant getting to be anywhere but here.

Watching her close the gap between them and feeling her hand in his created an affect within Eddie that was unbreakable. Love, desire, lust, passion, but worst of all obsession. She was beautiful and it took his by surprise, it was a beauty that wasn’t just in her physical features but in her nature, or was Eddie over thinking things? Perhaps he had been alone for far too long.

As she guided him, he tried to understand what she was meaning as she pointed to the word home. Home, yes home, this was home wasn’t it? Safety, warmth, home, home is where the heart is. A soft smile crossed Eddies lips as he didn’t understand that what she meant was to escape, no he took it as if she felt at home. He little squeeze delighted him, he wanted to hold her in his arms but the Groom contained himself, reminding himself that with patience comes many rewards. Yet the Groom wasn’t always able to control his urges, something that would later come up.

“ Home, Yes, this is home. We are safe here. Safe from all those lunatics. Although its missing a womans touch. “ The Groom said with confidence, revealing his delirious delusions of calling this place home.

Yet as she continued to explain herself, Eddie watched and observed her every movement ash e took note to how petite her hands were, her arms, her biceps, her waist and neckline. The measurements he assumed in his mind for a beautiful dress design he could draw out later. Fit for a beautiful woman like herself, if only she knew the dark desires within the Groom.

“ Oh dear, somebody hurt you. “ A hand reached up as he went to touch the tender bruised area, but he stopped himself. He could see the concern in his face, the worry that was there. Yet he didn’t understand her full intentions, her warnings, for the Groom was far too deep in his own madness.

“ I’m ok, just a few bruises here and there. “ A mild lie, he was marked, not just on his face, but he had scares he couldn’t explain, some old but most new. However the Groom could not recall what had taken place before the Riot, just faint flickers of a memory and a man that existed before.

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Starter call

Mutuals, like this post if you’d like a starter. If you have a sideblog, please be sure to let me know the blog you want a starter for. Also, feel free to tell me if there’s a specific verse you’d like!

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Outlast Inspired Sentence Starters

"I want to kill them."

"There's my darling!"

"I won't give up on you, I know you're worth it!"

"You're going to make me work for it, aren't you - you little minx!"

"Come on man, get in! I've seen what they're capable of!"

"Heavier than you look... A little cardio wouldn't kill 'ya."

"He looks... nervous."

"I want you to have my baby!"

"We give him a running start?"

"You don't have to run from me, I only want to love you."

"I want his tongue... And liver."

"You want to shut him up?"

"You don't have to be alone anymore."

"Cowards and idiots, all of you."

"How ain't you dead yet?"

"Did I frighten you? I'm awfully sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Somebody's been telling stories outside of class..."

"Darling, let's not be ridiculous... Just come out and let's talk about it."

"You don't have to hide from me, I only want to help."

"This-! Is why-! We can't have-! Nice things!"

"Nobody loves you, nobody! You die alone, you shit!"

"*muffled screaming*"

"You weren't putting that tongue to any use anyway."

"Tell him he's got fifteen seconds to keep his job."

"Fuck me, they're bringing him in."

"Goddamn it, what else could go wrong?"

"Don't expect anything but honestly in my review of your performance."

"We could have been... beautiful..."

"Love is hard sometimes."

"Forgive me darling!"

"Don't leave me! I can't be alone!"

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Little pig , little pig . No more escape.

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If she could smile, she would have. It was hard after so long, after everything she’d seen... sometimes she forgot that she wasn’t one of them. That she wasn’t supposed to be here at all. That while they couldn’t help it, they still shouldn’t be trusted. Still, she nodded in agreement to what he said. She did like it, and it would be better than this god awful uniform— but unfortunately, the uniform currently provided more of the free range that they would need in order to escape.

Gently, oh-so carefully, Charlie closes the gap and takes his much larger hand in her own. She’s cold and shaky, her touch so light that it’s hardly there at all. But she guides him, if he allows it, to the wall next to the gown. Free hand lands lightly upon the word “home” written there, and with the other she lightly squeezes his. It’s her purpose, her intent, she wants to go home. It’s hard to communicate without her words, but it’s not something she’s altogether unacustomed to by this point either.

The question, in all of its underlying gruffness, gives her pause. Delicate hand slips from the clutches of a more calloused one, and for the first time tonight she stops to assess her own well-being. She’s sore all over and there’s static in her brain, sure, but the question is more specific than that. She needs to be more specific than that. A small nod and she looks back up at the groom, never once shying from his rough appearance. First she motions to the bandage upon her face, and offers a soft note of confirmation. And then her hands travel lower, slipping down until they rest lightly upon the sides of her neck. It’s hard to tell but there are deep bruises there in the shape of hands, a clear sign of attempted strangulation.

Hands drop just as suddenly as they had been raised and Charlie rolls out her neck, a soft sigh momentarily flaring her nostrils. She closes her eyes but when they open they seem softer, concerned. She motions to the groom before her and hums again, in an attempt to ask him the same question he had asked her.

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Something within her had stirred, ever so slightly, when her fingers graced the fabric of the dress. It reminded her of another time, and of a love she never got to experience. She was always too busy, not that she ever imagined anyone would like her in that much anyway. But every girl dreams of weddings, and she was no exception.

A wedding dress, in her mind, symbolizes stability and comfort— something warm and bright. As she listens to Eddie speak her hands lower, slowly, eyes taking in as much of his appearance as she could manage in the dark. He was tall and broad, long legs and wide shoulders. Strong, or at least he looked it. And his vest… Charlie looks between the groom and the dress, before pointing to the gown and then back at Eddie, a hummed note of questioning her only audible cue. If her suspicions were correct then maybe he would turn out to be a gentle soul, although something else told her the hope was foolish. Still, having someone so strong could prove to be beneficial… it might help them both escape this place if they worked together.

Cautiously, Charlie steps closer to him so that he can see a few of her finer details. Looking up at him under long lashes, a doe testing her boundaries. She points at the number on her jumpsuit for him to see— she’s a patient too.

———-

Watching her every movement through hawk like eyes, Gluskin watched her delicate fingers point to the dress and then to him. At this moment he realized this was her asking if he had made it, or something along the lines. Yet Gluskin was always one to assume as he gently placed a hand to his chest and gave a soft nod.

“ I made it myself. Do you like it? Perhaps you’d like to wear it. It would be better then those…garbs. “ Gluskin said in a charming voice but as he eyes lowered to the number on her prison uniform, he began to question his next move.

Besides the beautiful features that he could now see when she came a little closer, Eddie couldn’t tell if this was a true woman before him or not. It would be something he would later determine.

“ Are you injured or anything? I can only imagine what it must be like away from my reach, how those lunatics would be. “ A faint stern tone was in his words, but none the less the Groom kept up his persona of being a charming man. He wanted to be open to her, to let her come to him this time rather then chase. Yet Eddie could never make up his mind

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“Hell is an experiment you can’t survive”

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Something within her had stirred, ever so slightly, when her fingers graced the fabric of the dress. It reminded her of another time, and of a love she never got to experience. She was always too busy, not that she ever imagined anyone would like her that much anyway. But every girl dreams of weddings, and she was no exception.

A wedding dress, in her mind, symbolizes stability and comfort— something warm and bright. As she listens to Eddie speak her hands lower, slowly, eyes taking in as much of his appearance as she could manage in the dark. He was tall and broad, long legs and wide shoulders. Strong, or at least he looked it. And his vest... Charlie looks between the groom and the dress, before pointing to the gown and then back at Eddie, a hummed note of questioning her only audible cue. If her suspicions were correct then maybe he would turn out to be a gentle soul, although something else told her the hope was foolish. Still, having someone so strong could prove to be beneficial... it might help them both escape this place if they worked together.

Cautiously, Charlie steps closer to him so that he can see a few of her finer details. Looking up at him under long lashes, a doe testing her boundaries. She points at the number on her jumpsuit for him to see— she’s a patient too.

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A hand raised to hold lightly the side of her head, eyes closing for a moment as she waits for the static to subside. It doesn’t take long, thankfully, but the headache she’d had before was only worse now because of it. Wonderful. Charlie can’t hear anything around her, although it doesn’t mean much, so she takes the opportunity to catch her breath. Exhales deeply through her nose, warming the bandages covering the lower half of her face.

Approaching the dress to see it better she tilts her head, shaking fingers extended to feel the fabric curiously. Faintly she wonders if it had been there before the riot as some patient’s pastime, because surely nobody could make an entire dress in the time since the riot started. They would’ve been found and torn apart by now.

Heavy footsteps register seconds before a deep voice does, causing her hands to fly up in defense as she spins towards the sound. And yet… it’s familiar, somehow. That wasn’t saying much given how long she’d been a patient here now though. Perhaps he’d been in a cell close to her, or they had met briefly in the halls, or any number of things. But familiarity in this place was not comfort, at least not entirely. Unable to respond to his question verbally she takes a few hesitating steps backwards, glancing briefly at the vent she fell from and deciding that it was now too high up for her to renter.

——–

Blue eyes watched how delicately her fingertips had gently brushed against the fabric. If only his heart wasn’t getting the better of him, he might have stayed hidden and watched her for a longer period of time, yet here he was with an excited grin on his face and a heart throbbing in his chest.

What a beautiful creature, Eddie thought to himself as he took in her petite frame, he couldn’t place who she was, he couldn’t place who anyone was. Yet all he saw was the hopes and dreams of finding love, starting a family, living the life he so badly longs for. However he noticed her glancing at the vent and it almost tore his heart apart yet the Groom wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“ I’m awfully sorry if I frightened you. I didn’t mean to. Its just…its been so long and lonely down here, by myself. “ The furtherest Eddie took to closing the gap between them was extending his arm outwards towards her.

Knowing too well that if he took a step he might frighten her into running, Eddie knew to play the cards and figured it was better to keep his distance, let her come to him. All the while on the outside he was charming and happy while also seeming a little content. Yet in this place smiling and being happy was one sign of madness. Despite the lesions on his face which the Groom didn’t fully take note too, Eddie thought he was quiet the handsome devil and he was sure to use that to his advantages.

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      feel free to change pronouns / wording !

warning for bad language.

“ you have to hide. ”

“ you have to get the fuck out of this terrible place. ”

“ guard your life, son, you have a calling. ”

“ you have to help me ! ”

“ you can’t make me. ”

“ don’t hurt me anymore. ”

“ who’s there ? ”

“ i want to share something with you. ”

“ just another ghost. ”

“ i didn’t want to have to do this to you. ”

“ you can’t leave. ”

“ accept the gospel and all doors will open before you. ”

“ get the fuck away from me ! ”

“ don’t you dare look at me. ”

“ i would like to kill him. ”

“ you look like you’ve seen a ghost. ”

“ what the fuck is the matter with you ? ”

“ what, you like to watch ? ”

“ just shut up and let me think for a minute. ”

“ i’d like you to stay quiet. ”

“ i detect sarcasm. ”

“ i need to tell you a secret. ”

“ i’m gonna need some help getting clean. ”

“ if you showed a caveman our technology, he would think it was magic. and if you showed modern man magic, he would think it was technology. ”

“ we have faith in all the wrong things. ”

“ you don’t have to be scared of me. ”

“ you must be exhausted. ”

“ heavier than you look. a little cardio wouldn’t kill you. ”

“ nose to the grindstone, i like that. ”

“ people get scared, they’re as like to turn to god as anything else. ”

“ don’t pass out on me. ”

“ you can’t control it. ”

“ if there’s one thing i cannot goddamn stand, it’s quitter. ”

“ i don’t make the rules. ”

“ you fucking sick motherfucker ! ”

“ you think i’m scared of anything ? ”

“ nobody cares about a few forgotten lunatics. ”

“ you are no longer in any danger. ”

“ mind over body. ”

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A hand raised to hold lightly the side of her head, eyes closing for a moment as she waits for the static to subside. It doesn’t take long, thankfully, but the headache she’d had before was only worse now because of it. Wonderful. Charlie can’t hear anything around her, although it doesn’t mean much, so she takes the opportunity to catch her breath. Exhales deeply through her nose, warming the bandages covering the lower half of her face.

Approaching the dress to see it better she tilts her head, shaking fingers extended to feel the fabric curiously. Faintly she wonders if it had been there before the riot as some patient’s pastime, because surely nobody could make an entire dress in the time since the riot started. They would’ve been found and torn apart by now.

Heavy footsteps register seconds before a deep voice does, causing her hands to fly up in defense as she spins towards the sound. And yet... it’s familiar, somehow. That wasn’t saying much given how long she’d been a patient here now though. Perhaps he’d been in a cell close to her, or they had met briefly in the halls, or any number of things. But familiarity in this place was not comfort, at least not entirely. Unable to respond to his question verbally she takes a few hesitating steps backwards, glancing briefly at the vent she fell from and deciding that it was now too high up for her to renter.

@theycallmemrgluskin

How many times could you almost die in the span of a few hours? As it would turn out, that number was startlingly high when caught in the midst of an asylum riot. It was luck that she had gotten out of her cell at all, the same force that kept her just an inch away from death at every turn.

Charlie drops (falls, more like) from the vent she had been crawling through into a new area, praying that it might be an exit. She’s certain she’d be willing to risk climbing a barbed wire fence at this point if it meant getting away from this hellhole. But what she strains to see in the dark baffles her. Patchwork “white” dresses and writings on the walls talking about homes and love. In fact it confuses her so much that she can’t help but to stop and stare, trying to reason through the haze of static trickling in through the corners of her mind. Maybe she’d even think it could be kind of sweet, were it not for the scent of death lingering thick in the air.

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@theycallmemrgluskin

How many times could you almost die in the span of a few hours? As it would turn out, that number was startlingly high when caught in the midst of an asylum riot. It was luck that she had gotten out of her cell at all, the same force that kept her just an inch away from death at every turn.

Charlie drops (falls, more like) from the vent she had been crawling through into a new area, praying that it might be an exit. She’s certain she’d be willing to risk climbing a barbed wire fence at this point if it meant getting away from this hellhole. But what she strains to see in the dark baffles her. Patchwork “white” dresses and writings on the walls talking about homes and love. In fact it confuses her so much that she can’t help but to stop and stare, trying to reason through the haze of static trickling in through the corners of her mind. Maybe she’d even think it could be kind of sweet, were it not for the scent of death lingering thick in the air.

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Tag dump part two

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Tag dump part one