Send + An Item Of Clothing That My Muse Has No Choice But To Wear To See Their Reaction

Send 👚 + an Item of clothing that my muse has no choice but to wear to see their reaction

★ — Wrinkles his nose a bit, fiddling with the bill of the hat, adjusting his hair underneath it. He doesn't hate it, but ——.

" —— didn't you already stick a beanie like this on my head before?"

' why do you only answer asks from ash ' ash is literally half of my inbox

all of my grief says this same thing — THIS ISN'T HOW IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE, THIS ISN'T HOW IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE. and the world laughs, holds my hope by the throat and says: but this is how it is. oh mother, I can feel the soil falling over my head.

( independent rosemary winters of the resident evil franchise. highly selective and heavily headcanon based. as adored by lune. )

sorry ! still here, just have gotten distracted with an influx of freelance stuff <3

❛ There’s always a flaw in the system. ❜

inbox summer cleaning / in some miracle I think this one is only six months old

★ — More and more often, Gregory has found himself spending his nights tucked into the shadows of the ruined remains of the pizzaplex ( supposedly being repaired for an eventual reopening — the thought makes him scoff, the place is falling apart ), dimly illuminated by the soft glow of a computer screen.

His brows are furrowed as he scans over code, looking for anomalies ( things that scream this isn't safe! ), inserting his own to wall a piece off from the rest. Familiar routine ; he's getting good at this, the strings of numbers and executions feeling like a second language. Combination of self - taught and guided instruction, the goal becoming more and more tangible the longer he spends in the darkness.

Attention flickers to the small pop - up of text in the corner ( long grown used to the watchful gaze of the second entity, much more hidden than the first he encountered ), the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. A piece of code is highlighted with the AI's appearance — a helping hand, and Gregory's quick to change it, nodding in agreement.

"I know. I think I'm getting close."

Spoken to the open air despite no one being around, but he knows the program can hear him. He leans back, un - glueing himself from the screen.

"If you can get the kill code, I should be able to get you into the game. Vanessa, too — since it won't let her play."

Of course, choosing to ignore the risks of this plan he and Vanessa had come up with. If he's in the headset, playing the game, he's vulnerable to Glitchtrap itself, giving it access to his mind the same way Vanessa had. It's a risk he's willing to take ; but one he's not sure the AI that's been guiding him will agree with.

ALSO THIS

Send 👚 + an Item of clothing that my muse has no choice but to wear to see their reaction

★ — Can't help the snort that sounds, a little breathy half - laugh as he rolls his eyes with a fond, mischievous twinkle. As if showing her pick off to her, he spins around a couple of times, with his arms held loosely out to his side.

"It'd be kinda hard to lose me in the first place if I'm wearing something this bright. Sorta defeats the purpose?"