#˗ˏˋ 🐰 ———— come out and play ! [ threads ] .

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————  closed thread for @trapton​, continued from HERE

things are happening much too quickly; too slowly for any comfort to settle in. she’s hyperaware of everything going on; she doesn’t feel connected to herself at all. is this what the devoted feel, when their preacher touches their forehead, calls upon the divine, blesses them with their highest power ? there is a hand on the back of her head, smoothing her golden hair, coming around to her cheek. it turns her punch-pink. she wants to look away, take it all back. she’s caught before the thought even finishes forming. holding her steady, giving her no place to look but at him. he knows her too well, deep in her head. he has her. ENTIRELY. she does all she can to not trace paths along the contours of his features, to not pay too close attention to anything about him. but she’s still just a girl. a sweet, dedicated girl, a little hazy in the head, the white noise making everything a little softer, cottony. she’s warm everywhere, his hands grounding her, keeping her tethered to him. she feels like she’s looking at a ghost. ( somewhere, far far away, she knows she is. ) her name sounds like a hymn. when he tilts her face one way and the other, she lowers her eyes, complies with no resistance. she just turns a darker shade, scarlet. the tone he’s got sounds like he knows where her brain is, like he’s caught her doing something she shouldn’t be doing. and what follows takes all that heat and pushes it over the edge, drops it low, into her stomach. lower. WELL. that’s something new. vanessa looks to him, keeps their eyes locked. her promise does not make her weak. she is strong, capable. she HAS to be. william chose her to lead for a reason. she may be treading uncharted waters, but she has enough of a mind to make the choices she needs to make. to give what she needs to give.

hand rests on cheek, thumb tracing a path across bone. there is an sort of balance here, now, she thinks. it almost makes her feel like a god, too. brings up an old, odd feeling she only feels when she’s sacrificing something to him, giving a life, shedding blood. “ i want you to take control. ” a pause. innuendo heavy, but as open-ended as his request. yet she’s getting her own feeling back - he knows. he knows what she’s getting at, where she wants that hand on her cheek to be. just a little lower. her head is still tilted up, neck entirely exposed. open season. she isn’t scared. she trusts him with everything in her. he wouldn’t hurt her the same way a hunter wouldn’t hurt a doe caught in their snare. “ take me. ” possession isn’t anything new to her, this has always been a partnership, they go hand-in-hand, but she’s giving him everything now. it’s all on the table. so much more than her brain and her body is on the line here. this is what she is putting on the alter for sacrifice now. HERSELF.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————        closed thread    !        [    @lastafton    ]    .

half of her is SCREAMING, blind with feeling, overwhelmed, white pinprick stars at the edge of her vision. it makes seeing through the homemade rabbit mask even harder. she has to take a full pause in her skipping about to try and readjust. a few deep breaths. THE REAL HER ALMOST CAN’T TAKE IT. what causes a reaction so visceral ? she has to blink, repeatedly, has to stay still so the world doesn’t run out from under her, so she doesn’t lose her mind. it’s... just a boy. ( a boy that her brain is ready to TEAR APART. ) no. just a boy. a sullen-looking boy. and she has a knife in her hand and a costume adorned. she has the power here. she has ALWAYS had the power. her head tilts. like she’s listening to something. to someone. and when Vanny speaks, it’s her voice, but it’s crackling, like it’s travelling across an old-school telephone wire. tainted with him. “ your father sends his regards. ”

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————        closed thread    !        [    @nightdied​    ]    .

she is... unfamiliar with him by face. but she knows his name. she knows of him. they came from the same place, the same back-alley game company in need of beta testers with no questions asked and way better pay than they should have been able to afford. he came just before her. but she doesn’t know if he’s come out with the same affliction as she.

“ tommy. ” this is vanessa talking, REALLY vanessa, fighting and trying and just a little scared. it’s been a while since the game went under, since she had a ghostglitch start piggybacking. a while since the recruiting started. a while since she started bleeding for a resurrection. days, weeks, months. ( she loses track of time so easily now, since she let him in. ) “ please. i know it’s hard. i know it’s weird. but i - i am going to understand. ” out comes her lithe hand, taking his, holding kindly, imploring. “ i PROMISE. you aren’t alone in this. ” but two’s a party, three’s a crowd. “ tell me why you left. ” she will NOT be alone in this anymore.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————        closed thread    !        [    @sacrilamb    ]    .

tonight was quickly shaping up to be one of the more interesting ones in recent memory. her and all her friends had done just what they were supposed to, out for BLOOD and SACRIFICE, and here she is, costume adorned minus the mask, blonde hair a high ponytail atop her head, in front of someone she’s never met before. “ well - ” she’s a little lost for what to do about it, but she’s got a smile in her voice, on her face, bright like the moonlight cutting through the forest overhead. “ - what a nice surprise ! ” she knows how all this looks. it’s BAD. knife in one hand, sack of something in the other. all alone with her breath clouding around her pretty features like dragon’s breath. but her demeanor can be a good distraction. “ hi, i’m nessa. ” a little laugh, like this is in any way casual. “ what’s got you out here so late, friend ? ” it’s actually not that late. just before midnight. the witching hour, the stories used to call it. the perfect time for a ritual.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————        closed thread    !        [    @fazertech    /    george hans    ]    .

another day, another dollar. vanessa’s job is about as easy and cushy as security jobs go. in a megaplex like freddy’s, there’s always something going on. but it’s never enough to really warrant her coming out of her little office. it’s rowdy kids or unruly parents or a rogue teenager trying to be funny. she only shows up when someone wants to make a POINT. and that’s fine. she doesn’t do confrontation well anyways. other parts of her do, of course, but not when she’s in her right mind and got control over her body. she’s happy listening to the radio calls and reading her book. looks better than scrolling on her phone, she always supposed.

being out on the floor, in the view of the people, is a little strange. but she’s half-in-half-out of uniform; she’s on LUNCH. warm pizza and fizzy soda and in one of the many unoccupied party rooms. catching sight of a familiar face, from cameras and closing nights and orientation. the doorway is all his. so is her attention. she is good at commanding his attention in turn. “ quick georgie. thoughts on CULTS. go. ” it’s innocent and easygoing, curious and casual, fun even. just a hypothetical. ( but maybe not. )

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————        closed thread    !        [    @hopedoomed    ]    .

something in her is THRASHING against the cage. it is trying to BREAK FREE. it feels like her heart beating too fast, like heat thrumming in her body, like the start of a throbbing headache. he wants out so bad, to see his precious daughter. to reunite with the one he created a bloody legacy for. but the blonde will not give in.

“ elizabeth, right ? ” she sounds like only herself, no ghosts or glitches to vocalize. but there’s a certain tone, maybe like admiration, soft spoken and sweet. she uses this tone when she wants to recruit, but this is genuine, this is really just vanessa speaking to a younger girl she’s only seen in pictures and read about in articles. " i... honestly don’t know whether to say it’s a pleasure to finally meet you or not. ” and there’s a gentle, slightly-awkward laugh to punctuate her sentence.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ ———— closed thread for @khalaesi's circus baby , continued from HERE

with the work now finished on the animatronic, all there is to do is leave. there's no real reason to stick around, with this being the final maintenance call of the evening, and the other members of circus baby's crew already put to sleep. vanessa is simply a girl in a hat, entrusted with something she only vaguely knows about, who lets the better part of her take hold of her hands when she is put to work. someone else has caught onto the act. the painted face of the robot looks down at her, an artificial grin as cold as the metal plates snapped shut around it, making her tilt her head just a bit. in some ways, she understands the artistry, the beauty. there's a lot of work put into all of them, a lot of money, a lot of time. with or without the virus in her brain, she was always a bit of a SUCKER for the arts.

when baby speaks, the blonde straightens out, holding her height as one would a shield. this is the real callout. she doesn't want anyone to know her. " well, it's been a pretty hard year, babs, " she gives in return, not feeling as silly as she did a moment ago, now with the call and response. nor does she feel the informality wrong. they aren't friends, but they're pretty good acquaintances. that has earned something. " for the both of us, i think. " a part of her is EMPATHETIC to the plight of the glowing-eyed girl, another part guilty that she was sent down here at all. ( which one is her ? which one is the other ? always the question, when she feels anything, anymore. ) " so - " she starts moving when she goes for the next part, packing up. " - what do you see, then ? " she's asking to humor them, sure, but she's also genuinely curious. just a bit. can she see what the others can't ? the plague on her mind, the electricity that jumps between fingertips, the shadow of a golden rabbit that always seems to linger just behind her ? too much to wonder. not enough to ask.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ ———— closed thread for @trapton's malhare ​, continued from HERE

she feels nothing. she feels too much. she is sick with it all. sick of it all. she's trying to draw lines in the sand, trying to get some sort of divide up, but nothing quite sticks. she breathes and it's choked. too warm. rebellion, fighting a war. the other side does not go easily. her peripheral sparkles with pixels, shifts with movement, can't be pinned down. too fast. a rabbit running from prey. brains are computers. she's about to blue-screen. she white-knuckles the edge of the table. if she goes, she's taking her body with her. panic and fear and broken-heartedness. there's got to be a kill switch, some sort of code. brains are computers. she has to have an override. lock them both out of the body. maybe just for a minute. a stray tear falls. it's a tidal wave. she's going under.

he cuts through the noise. he has that WAY about him. he makes it so easy to focus on him, with just a few little tweaks. someone turns on motion-smoothing. she blinks and through watery eyes the world has calmed down. everything has stopped moving. there he stands, still and more tangible than she's ever seen him. almost real. until he speaks her name. clocks her with the nickname, and things go bokeh, more tears. has she earned that ? has any of this been enough ? she can feel him, a fizzle of movement on her shoulders, two phantom hands. she knows it's him. doesn't know what version of him she's getting. she's locked onto the rabbit in front of her. this modulated voice, the voice of the past, it blends together. indistinguishable. " i don't feel like a god. " it hurts to say, small and shaken and upset. it could be the finishing-off of the sentence she tried a moment ago, but too much time has passed. " i... don't know what i'm feeling. " she's so lost in this darkness. she's following his guiding light, but it feels so far away. " is it me ? " she asks, hopes, for something, anything. " is this my fault ? " the shaken faith, the questioning, is it all in her head ? is it wrong ? " i don't know what's happening, but it - it feels like it's because of me. " the separation. did she choose it ? was it simply her body's response to being so full ? she's looking to him for answers. always will.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ ———— closed thread for @slaughterlocked​, continued from HERE

the night is cold, gusts of warmth only coming from the crumbling, burning facade in front of them. she wonders, idly, if he feels it too, the onslaught, the shifting of things, the emotions it all carries. thoughtfulness, euphoria, that permanent aftertaste of fear. that's just natural, when sharing a brain, a body. she only knows what he's told her, what he's convinced her of. hasn't asked any further because, sometimes, that fear is just too strong. it's better that way. she knows SHE was the one that did this, no help, took initiative to continually prove her worth. happy to follow, happy to lead. the praise makes something in her chest tight, overcomes everything else. pride. her's. ( hopefully his. )

the virus moving sounds almost like the pop of an overloaded electrical breaker. quiet, but distinct. she stills when she hears it. he's gone. and then he's THERE - right in front of her. a blink, a shift, the very air charging. the hairs on her arms stand on end. she takes a small step back, gives him space. wants to be close, the same way a disciple wants to be close to their god, but believes herself unworthy yet. she carries her spirit with her, in her, but she is not allowed much more, for the moment. when he reaches out to her, she instinctively leans forward just a bit, into the phantom touch. she wants it more than anything, it's a show of her whole hand, just how badly she wants to be enough. " thank you. " and it's genuine, soft. her confidence has always waned a bit when he manifested, the personified power dynamic enough to put her in her place. but the intensity of her hunger, the want of it all, hasn't quite let up. they're together in this. side by side, you and i. " you and me, " she agrees, and electricity zaps her cheek, just for a second. fingertips making contact with skin. " i'll do whatever it takes to get you back. just say the word. " two lost souls and their intricate, terrible co-dependency. another body, her body, more blood, always more blood. never-ending. resurrection on an alter to a hungry, half-alive god. it SPARKLES.

[cultbunny]

“  okay,  you’re really starting to freak me out this isn’t funny anymore.  ”

˗ˏˋ          ————        darker thrilling prompts    ( always accepting )    !        [    from @nightdied  ]    .

standing before him is NOT vanessa. not the girl he knows so well, the one he relates so closely to. this is what she had warned him about, what she had told him she walked away with. more than a nightmare. i carry around a corpse. it’s entombed in a homemade costume and a rabbit mask. “ aw - i was really trying to get a laugh, too ! ” for a moment her whole body droops, almost cartoonishly so, before perking back up. “ but i still got a hell of a rise out of you, didn’t i ? ” all of her mischievous joy is in the question, head tilting to one side. “ but, now you need to be honest, tommy - is it the axe ? it’s the axe, isn’t it. WAY too much, right ? tell him ! ” she swings it, keeping an eye on the weapon as it arcs low, glinting low and dangerous in the shadowy muted light. “ i much prefer knives. they’re so much more personal. ” as she speaks, swinging the axe back up to rest on the front of her shoulder, she moves forward, toward him. “ knives, they carry such responsibility. they really make you think before killing. you have to get close, find the right soft spot, feel all the blood on your hands... ” the musing is dreamy. when she looks back at him, there’s something MANIC in her tilt. “ i like thinking about killing. ” oh, she thinks about it often, these days. with so many people around her, with so much screaming in her.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————        closed thread    !        [    @shermphibia​    /    april o’ neil    ]    .

“ SO. ” the blonde is looking at the other young woman with curiosity, interest, trepidation. they don’t know one another, but vanessa knows of her. knows at least her name. ( even if she can’t quite associate it with her face yet. ) the blonde makes a point to know all manners of obstacles - families looking for their missing children, the remnants of a videogame gone far under, those who would rather see her and those with her completely wiped out. what is this girl ? “ a reporter, huh ? ” there’s the interest, peeking through to show, good at playing the part. her smile is slow but wide, very cute, playful. “ that must be lots of fun ! lots of travelling and adventures. ” her next question is what she’s been wondering this whole time, a tilt of her head to really show. “ but what brings you all the way out here ? ” not suspicious at all. just another patron asking the question she’s probably gotten a million times since she arrived.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————        closed thread    !        [    @weroyals    /    roxanne wolf    ]    .

the doors have closed, the locks have engaged, the megaplex is CLOSED for the evening. nighttime is in full swing just outside the giant bay windows, the light reflecting off of the squeaky tile floors all neon and multicolored. the indistinguishable silhouette of a girl in the reflection crosses the threshold, continuing on her round. being closed does not affect her in the SLIGHEST most nights. she is non-slip shoes, a uniform white button up and black slacks, a high blonde ponytail tucked under a black security cap.

where she stops is always where she stops first - THE DEN OF THE WOLF. but she is not scared. out of the band of rockstars they have playing shows every night, she kind of likes roxanne wolf the most. just for the vibes alone - she’s the badass girl of the group, the shit-talker, the one with the attitude. she’s everything vanessa wanted to be growing up. fearless and kick-ass with a hell of a fashion sense. “ hey, roxy. ” she’s in the doorway, casual and easygoing, flashlight and little tool box in hands. “ have a good night ? ” she doesn’t get to see the performances, isn’t out on the floor during operating hours unless it’s an emergency. so getting to see the band is ALWAYS a treat.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————        closed thread    !        [    @kiddscove    ]    .

she’s not much of a mechanic, but she knows JUST ENOUGH for the company to send her out in a futile attempt to service and repair of the ‘ classic ’ animatronic. tucked behind starry violet curtains and shadow, warning those that pass by with an OUT OF SERVICE sign. vanessa dips under the rope and enters the dusky stage without much thought. fearless, some would say; foolish, some others would chide. something stirs in her head. shifts like it’s about to wake. she is simply a blonde girl standing in front of a very tall, very lithe fox, cardinal red and flocked, out of commission for who knows how long. a small, stray part of her kind of aches at the sight of something so forgotten. “ hey buddy. ” so, she speaks to it. like he’s one of her’s, like he’s got the AI and the advanced tech to understand and respond. “ they really did a number on ya, didn’t they ? ” her voice is tender, wry, caring. she looks over his face, open maw and unblinking eyes. she pats him on the muzzle - a gesture of support. “ i’ll help you get back into shape. don’t worry. ” she sets her little tool box down, pops it open, distracts herself with that for the few moments.

[cultbunny]

˗ˏˋ          ————        closed thread    !        [    @inkmchine    ]    .

“ well, look at you ! ” she’s crouched down, eye-to-eye with the LITTLE DEVIL DARLING, eyes alight with a child-like joy not felt in decades. “ aren’t you just the most adorable thing ? ” she wants to touch, but doesn’t quite know if they would like that. so, nessa keeps her hands to herself. “ no wonder they tried to start a religion over you. ” she laughs, all the rumors and stories now aligning with what she sees in front of her.

“ and they must’ve done something right, getting you here. ” it gives her hope for her own endeavors, resurrecting the dead and neveralive her one true goal. in her rabbit suit sans-mask, she looks almost like she’s in pajamas, comfortable in all her slightly-unhinged manic joy. “ absolutely incredible. you’re incredible. ” she’s so happy to see the little thing in real-life like this. “ how does being alive feel ? ” she can’t help but ask, wide baby blues and curiosity all her own, finally taking a seat just before him with legs criss-crossed over one another like a small child enraptured at story time.

[cultbunny]

tag test pt. i - please do not like or reblog !!