Roleplay - Tumblr Posts
Collision Dreams.
When the mind is fully engaged, as in a state of intense temptation, anticipation reaches its pinnacle. There is more than one item that contribute to excellence. Without practice, the sound of a violin's strings being plucked is little more than screeches. However, even screams may be melodic. In the subconscious, dreams that collide are only ideas.
A mind full of wishful thinking and doomed ambitions. Naturally, every dream that goes through the hippocampus undergoes the somber routine of wanting to know. However, in science, we are not constrained by dreams. In sensitive domains of heartfelt longing, our dreams bind us. Aggression, organized disorder, and coercion of the mind to fulfill our desires.
To what end are we seeking? Are we aiming for the impossible? Is it unacceptable? Alternatively, maybe the inaccessible is what our subconscious desires. Dreams that collide with reality serve as a wake-up call. It provides monotony by its deadpan, ordinary, monotonous, and tediousness.
Dreams allow us to escape, relive, and face challenges; and as time passes, we are able to dream once again. To imagine, to inhale, and to cease being patient.
𝐈𝐧𝐤—𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨(𝐈)
The grunge concept of "walking into a situation" has an arcane quality about it. Indeed, it is particularly true when the grunge vibe conveys joy. Without a doubt, Megan was far from admitting that her life was destined to be dominated by grunge aesthetics. Nevertheless, planning to acquire a fresh tattoo? She would gladly do it whenever asked. Jesse stood beside her. Some of his face was obscured by his shaggy bangs and boyishly blonde hair. Despite being just 5 feet 11 inches tall, he towered over Megan, who was only 5 feet 4 inches tall.
But he wasn't trying to show off his superiority by standing tall. He was just standing near her due to his aversion to the sound of the tattoo needles puncturing human skin. There was an iridescent sparkle in Megan's blue eyes as she gazed up at him. For some reason, she found it hilarious to see Jesse quiver.
"Did you hear that?" Jesse groaned, absently snaking an arm around Megan's slim waist. The ferocity of buzzings, zaps, and every once n' awhile a patron saying "ouch" could be heard.
Leaning into him more, she flicked her tongue out to the corner of her mouth, suppressing a giggle. "Feeling queasy?"
"Not one bit." Jesse gritted, giving her waist a firm squeeze. As he let go, his own blue eyes surveyed the tattoo parlor.
It seemed as if it had been designed by Sid Vicious of the Sex Pistols, rather than your average Hollywood tattoo parlor. Through the speakers, music blasted at a low but audible volume. This sort of tongue-in-cheek coarse language was being tossed about, and talks were flowing at a high velocity. Megan was smitten. The immaculate glamour wasn't always her thing; in fact, she thrived on the unconventional. Of course, the star of any respectable tattoo shop will be a man whose body is covered with tattoos, and who may even sport a spikey mohawk for good measure.
Megan took a few more steps inside the establishment while hiding her hair behind her ear. As she watched, she considered all the many designs that might be tattooed onto her body. Even she had gotten tattoos before. Taking into account the fact that she already has almost twenty tattoos. Jesse, on the other hand, had fifteen or sixteen tattoos covering his body, despite his qualms with the idea.
From behind the blue svelte veil, the top tat artist appeared. His nearly black, beady tiny eyes widened in surprise at Megan. As if to let his artwork do the talking, he nodded at Jesse, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned his head against the wall next to him.
"Tramp stamps?" The man asked.
Megan raised her eyebrow, the pout of her lips forming into a frown. Was that all he thought she was working of getting? Next to her, Jesse let out a stifled chuckle and scratched the back of his head.
"I already have a 'stramp stamp.' I want an inscription on my back"
"Right or left?"
"Left."
The man rubbed the small stubble or what Megan could assume, was his ploy at growing a goatee and nodded. "Have what you want or you want a free style?"
Just from the way he said "free style," made Megan scoff. "Let's keep it professional."
He nodded affirmatively then directed his attention to Jesse. "You here for ink to?" His voice was curt and impatient.
Jesse lowered his glasses, tipped his head down and gave Megan and stare. Without even saying anything, he nodded and then turned his attention to the brooding artist. "Yeah, I'm hip man."
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Relaxed and on her stomach, she joined in the slapstick-style banter taking on all around her. It was obvious to Megan that no one in the immediate vicinity of the tattoo business cared whether she was famous or not. She was really beaming broadly when a man brought up how much Megan, looked liked the stunning actress Angelina Jolie. But Megan adored the parlor's atmosphere as a whole.
The meaning of her tattoo had been carefully considered by her. Finally, after weeks of thinking about it, she put pen to paper and wrote it just how she intended. There was nothing garish or copied from someone else who had this tattooed before. However, Megan really wanted it.
Following her thorough cleaning, Jesse, who was seated upright in the chair opposite from her, watched as the artist proceeded to disinfect all of the needles before beginning the ink artwork. Perhaps it was the fact that she enjoyed having designs drawn on her body or her high pain tolerance. She had no shame in getting tattoos, whatever they were.
As the first few letters of the phrases stung over her collarbone, the needle pricked her back in a way that was almost buzzing. She dipped her head and hummed in time with the tattoo needles' almost creepy droning; every so often, she would glance up to find Jesse's charming face gazing back at her. He was engaging in an exciting activity on his own. In order to match Megan's tattoo, he planned to have a tattoo on his wrist and another, similar to an ode, on his side. They were both insane for wanting this.
Almost an hour into the session, Megan let out a hiss as a result of an uncontrollably tense muscle. She couldn't help but notice Jesse's mischievous smile as he arched an eyebrow in her direction.
"Pain?" He mouthed, before pouting his own lips at Megan. Megan rolled her eyes and played with a strand of her silky hair, on her finger. She wouldn't let Jesse see her, almost whine in fear from the way the needle seem to hit a nerve on her back.
After Megan and Jesse listened to twenty songs by the Rolling Stones, R.E.M., and Billy Joel, they were both finished receiving their tattoos. Talk about a head trip. Megan coerced Jesse and herself into looking at the large mirror in the grunge-inspired parlor so they could admire their new tattoos.
Taking off his shirt, Jesse showed off his toned and sun-kissed physique. He turned to his left and waited for a moment of quiet while he studied the tattoos. To the point of feeling emboldened, he laughed uncontrollably. "Fuckin' nice, I look pretty good."
Megan rolled her eyes, hip bumping her friend out the way. She and Jesse were beyond the essence of comfortable with each other—so she had no qualms of taking off her shirt.
When it comes to body art, Megan was always wary. They might either look wonderful or like a five-year-old who has drowned her skin. The sight of the ink-tatted phrases on her porcelain skin caused her to release a breathy sigh as she turned around in the mirror, peering over her shoulder. Knowing that her dream tattoo had finally come true was incredible, almost strange.
To show his approval, Jesse whistled behind her. With a playful nuzzle of his nose on her smooth skin, he drew nearer to her, placing both hands on her waist. The fact that Megan's tattoo turned out so beautifully made her grin widely, as if she was feeling very exuberant.
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"Are you seriously still looking at yourself in the mirror?" Jesse laughed, leaning against the doorway to Megan's bathroom.
As she studied him in the reflection, her brows furrowed. Megan was, of course, staring at her reflection in the mirror again. Not arrogantly, but for the sheer joy of being enamored with her tattoo and the profound philosophical and poetic significance it had. With a graceful shrug, the stunning actress turned to face Jesse, her top sliding back up to cover her shoulders.
He joyfully cackled while raising his hands in a defensive posture; he doted on causing Megan distress.
"Let's see yours." Megan steamily spoke, her blue eyes glowing with that mischievous tint.
Jesse tilted his head toward the left, and dropped both his hands. "Which one, the one my wrist?"
"No. The one your side. Take your shirt off." Megan, tried, in all ways to sound demanding and she just couldn't. Raising a hand to her mouth, she let out a high pitch howl in laughter.
Jesse leaned lightly against the bathroom door and put his palm on his chest. Even he, with wide eyes and an open mouth, couldn't help but break into laughing. Unannounced, he began to undo the buttons on his shirt while the rhythmic sounds of their laughing reverberated through the luxurious, vast bathroom.
This wasn't your typical scandal-laden romantic comedy or hot drama. But for an instant it seemed like that was the vibe. Megan sighed impatiently as she placed her hands on her hips and licked her bottom lip. Jesse was making every effort to reveal the tattoos on his body at his own leisure.
Megan lifted one of her elongated, very delicate heavenly fingers, her other hand resting on her hip. She spun it around and forced a grin, just as Jesse lifted his shirt to reveal the black ink scribbles that were staring at her. The tattoo was perfect for Jesse's figure; it looked flawless.
It complimented his body, something Megan admired whenever, Jesse got a new tattoo. Walking closer to him, she delicately reached out and traced her manicured nail over his tattoo. The words easy to see, but pronouncing them? She didn't speak Hebrew. But, it was a compliment to her tattoo which read: "We will all laugh at gilded butterflies."
As her hands continued to caress and seemingly smooth, across his tattoo they jumped, when Kourtney came busting into the bathroom. Like, almost skidding to a stop—Kourtney nervously laughed.
"Umm...? Did I interrupt something?"
Megan stood up, ruffled her hair out her face and then wiggled her eyebrows at her best friend. "Oh yeah, we were just about to get sooooo busy."
Kourtney laughed, sliding into the bathroom past Jesse, who was blushing from ear to ear, then giggled. "Kourt, go back out and come back in and we'll all just—"
"Hush." Megan laughed, grabbing Jesse by his arm and rushing each of them out the bathroom so Kourtney could have her privacy. Upon returning to the living room, Jesse reclined on the sofa and reached for his mug of coffee. He sipped his drink as he observed Megan, who was kneeling in front of the massive TV, searching for anything. With an elbow on his knees, he sat up and beckoned to her in a playful manner. "Whips n' chains huh?"
"Shut up." Fiercely turning around and standing up, Megan dusted off her flannel shirt and then flashed a rather sinister, but playful grin. "Polaroid! The whole keepsake of memories."
Jesse, always the callous, unserious flirter stood quickly and just about ripped off his shirt. "Hm? Naked memories."
Megan rolled her tongue over her teeth and sighed, frustrated. "Gosh, no. You're really gross sometimes."
"Correction, we're gross. I still have video tape."
"And it will stay locked away, right?" Megan brutely hissed, then snapped a photo of Jesse, with high flash.
Surrendering grumbles, with a hint of sadness came from Jesse as he nodded 'yes.' He and Megan went back and forth, for awhile about the tempting idea of where the video tape, could end up. After, Megan finally got her point across, she then motioned for Jesse to once more lift his shirt. She wanted to get a beautiful picture of the artwork on his body.
"It's very becoming of you."
"Don't sell these." He mocked, raising his arms a bit so the tattoo was in full length.
As Megan drew nearer, she sat on her knees and leaned to one side, mimicking the posture of other directors and photographers with whom she had collaborated. With her eyes fixed on Jesse, she took three pictures. She stared at the Polaroid pictures with utter amazement as they came out.
As Jesse knelt down to view the photos, he couldn't help but chuckle at how polished they were. In the midst of quiet, he gestured for Megan to have a seat on the floor, grinning mischievously as he signaled for her to remove her blouse.
Trust was built between them, and Megan nodded as she took off her checkered flannel blouse. Following Jesse's instructions, of which he wanted to get a good snap of her lower back tat as well. As she got into position, Megan watched, Jesse's brows arch in concentration and then she heard, the footsteps of Kourtney and the faint. "I so wanna be a part of that."
As Jesse snapped the photo he laughed, "Go get a tat then."
"Unfair." Kourt laughed flatly; knowing she'd never get any ink on her skin. So instead she watched Megan simply, in small ways turn back into her early days of modeling.
𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐈𝐈: 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨-𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬. (P.1.)
(Viewers discretion is heavily advised. This is all fiction, darlings.)
Life would be considered dull if it were devoid of flamboyant displays. However, life is really lived to the fullest when random, serendipitous occurrences arise. A road trip with four friends is, of course, a tired old cliché. With the sole purpose of enjoying the open road, they have packed just the essentials and are stashed in a rather decent camper. To genuinely begin on life, that is what it means.
Each time they stop at a gas station, the assigned drivers will trade off. Whether it's because the beef jerky is too "jerky" or because someone forgot to get batteries, someone is always griping. Jesse sat behind the wheel in front of the vehicle, his hands firmly gripping the wheel while he sometimes used his slender fingers to tap on the screen of the radio, presumably in search of a station devoid of annoying advertisements. With a gentle brake, he moved into the right lane just as the light ahead turned red.
"How many times are we gonna hear, about Mitsubishi cars? Change the station man." Kourtney whined, as she stretched her legs out onto the dashboard.
Behind her, Von snickered lowly as he swallowed the rest of his beef jerky. He let out a dry cough, mumbling under his breath that pepper jerky, wasn't the best road tripping snack.
"It's public radio, I have no control over it."
"He said, as he simply switches between the only two, radio station he knows." Megan playfully narrated, with a snipe; but giggled at the end.
Jesse retorted in giving her the finger in the rearview mirror. It was true though, Jesse only liked two radio stations. One being pure classic 60's rock n' roll and smooth R&B; there was never anything else in between.
As soon as the traffic began to move again, Jesse stepped on the pedal and proceeded to make another right turn. The only sound throughout the car's journey was the music that everyone was listening to, but no one was talking. Perhaps everyone was either too exhausted or too enthusiastic to care about the destination of their road journey. Aside from not looking for landmarks, none of the friends had reserved any accommodations. All they had to do was pull onto the campsite that Von had reserved earlier that week. The freedom to roam the broad road without restrictions was thrilling.
In the rear, behind Jesse, was Megan. She let her gaze wander to the world beyond the window, her leg resting comfortably on Von’s lap. Observing the world go by was something she liked. As they continued their journey, they saw that fewer street lighting were visible, and it seemed as if the darkness was engulfing them. It seemed like only their camper was on the road ahead, and Megan could see that Jesse had managed to escape the thick, backed-up traffic. Since there was no traffic, they were free to disregard traffic laws.
Thirty minutes into the drive, and everyone was becoming antsy. Kourtney sat upright and huffed, looking at the GPS on her phone. "Jes, you're going the wrong way."
He arched an eyebrow, leaving his left hand on the steering wheel, craning to look at her phone. "It says to keep straight."
"We've been going straight for like an hour." Megan spoke, a yawn filtered into every sentence.
Jesse took the GPS from off the holder, stopped the camper and put it in park. The friends in the camper were engulfed by shadows and what seemed like a pitch-black road. Von yawned and ran his hands over his hair in the backseat. He noted that for the last five miles, they had not seen a single road sign. With a cautious thumb, Jesse continued to scroll and scan the GPS for any obvious indications of their destination, while he silenced everyone else. Because Kourtney hadn't charged her phone, it was almost dead, so it didn't help.
Mountaining tension began. "You need to seriously charge your phone, Kourt." Jesse griped. Kourtney, rolled her eyes and turned to look out her own window. "We're not even on an actual road anymore."
"So where are we?" Both Megan and Von asked.
Jesse whipped himself around to stare at his two friends. His blue eyes were darker now, and he held a confused and frustrated expression. "If we knew where we were, wouldn't I keep driving?"
"You were doing that five minutes ago." Von shot back, laughing slightly.
Ignoring him. Jesse turned back in his seat. Foot on the clutch, taking the camper out of park and started driving again. All three friends, shared the exact same thought: Where was he going? Where were they going?
-----------
"Try it now!"
Crank... nothing.
With a huff, he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. "Again!" He yelled, as he dove his head back under the hood of the camper.
"Still nothing man," Said Von flatly. "We gotta get to a gas station or something."
"Something," Kourtney piped in as she leaned against the camper. Her already scuffed boots crunched on the dirt road.
Grease and oil caked his fingertips, causing Jesse to grimace as he continued to work under the camper's hood. At the previous petrol station, he had filled up the tank to the brim, in his mind. It appeared his prediction was incorrect, however, given the car's bluddering and wheezing, as if it were on its final legs. He also leaned against the camper as he slammed the hood down, his voice rising to an angry screech. This trip was failing miserably. Imagine a world without petrol, road signs, or smartphone GPS. Could this be another one of those "punked" instances starring Ashton Kutcher? Were their phones actually dead?
He sighed and fiddled with his blonde hair as he searched his pocket for a pack of smokes. Lighting one, Jesse turned to Kourtney who had this goofy expression on her face. "S' funny?"
"Huh?"
"I said, what's so funny? You've been looking at me with such a dumb look."
Kourtney gritted her teeth, "Be like the camper and shut up."
Both Von and Megan bursted into fits of laughter as they exited the camper.
There was an obvious buildup of tension between them all. It had all the hallmarks of a terrible horror movie: the camper was out of gas, and it seemed like none of their phones were working. As he steamed his eyes over Kourtney, Jesse let out a puff of nicotine. It seems like he was in no mood for verbal sparring. True enough, the four pals were worried about how, if at all, they could get the camper operating again.
Megan drew her pink windbreaker jacket over her arms and cocked her head to gaze upwards. Complete blackness; not a single star visible. Returning to the camper, locating a charging plug, and patiently waiting could allow them to summon assistance.
Von, huffed an impatient sigh before speaking up, "Let's just get inside the camper and..." His voice trailed as shuffled over to Jesse, and plucked the cigarette from his fingers to, take a drag.
Megan agreed. "Yeah, at least we have somewhere to sleep."
"Sleep? In the middle of nowhere?" Kourtney, whined in that nasal voice of hers.
That made Jesse chuckle. "You could always sleep outside."
"We're in the middle of nowhere."
"We have to charge our phones, Kourt." Megan cooed, as she saddled up to her friend, and rested a hand on her shoulder. "So, let's just get back in the camper and stop all the bickering."
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Whispers of bone-chilling screams and a deafening shriek followed. A specific tapping sound, like corroded nails on a worn-out blackboard. Unsettling sounds of crunching leaves and muck, as if the walker's shoes were caked in mud, evoked a sense of foreboding. After laying down on his side, Von buried his face more into the camper's pullout mattress cushion and scrunched his nose. But even as he twisted around, the scraping, pounding of feet outside the camper remained audible. He pivoted again, emitted an irritated grunt, and sat up, careening his head into the camper's little shelf. "Goddammit." He cursed, rubbing the ache on his forehead.
He reached a hand out and shook Megan tenderly, who was cuddled up underneath the blanket. After a few more shakes she stirred awake. "W-what?"
"Do you hear that?" Von asked.
Megan quietly yawned, sat up slightly, and crossed her legs to her chest in response to his question. Did she hear anything? Kourtney was sound asleep on the mattress next to Megan, and all Megan could hear were the faint grumbles of snores. She cocked her head in Von's direction, scowled, and pouted; he had ruined her sleep for nothing? "Go back to sleep." Megan lazily yawned, lying back down. Before closing her eyes, she softly spoke. "Check your phone, to see if it's charged."
Von clenched his jaw at his pretty friend. How could she go back to sleep when all that noise was clanking, banging, and creating a creepy and ruined experience outside the camper? He rested back and tried to close his eyes—but he could hear the screeching. What the hell was that?
Once more, he palmed Megan's shoulder and roughly shook her; not caring if she were to be cranky. "Cookie, wake up. Don't you hear that?"
Megan, sleepy, and quite agitated now was awake. And, despite being annoyed by Von; she knew it was serious when he called her "Cookie." Rubbing her eyes, she yawned. "Hear what? I don—" Stopping, Megan then felt air get clogged in her throat.
It was only now that she heard it. A shriek that sounded like it resounded from coast to coast accompanied the bloodcurdling groans. What on earth was that? Plus, who was the source of those horrible noises? She jolted Kourtney awake in the same way that Von had done to her. Kourtney sat up, her eyes wide as she hummed a weary sigh, a little shocked.
"What's going on? What's that noise?" Kourt groaned.
"I don't know," Von retorted as he got off the mattress and within the small space searched for his phone. As he did, he noticed, that he didn't hear any of the loud snores coming from Jesse.
Craning a look over his shoulder at the girls, he chewed his lip biting a question. "Where's Jess?"
Megan furrowed her thick eyebrows, "He's not in here?"
Kourtney yawned again and stretched before getting off the little cramped mattress as well. "Jesse? You up front?" Calling out and receiving no answer.
No answer. But... Additional snarling, wailing, and what sounded like a throaty gasp echoed through the three companions' ears. As they exchanged worried looks, they hoped that maybe they were all experiencing hallucinations. Perhaps from when they had eaten the mushrooms that Jesse had brought on the trip. However, that treat occurred some hours ago. However, Jesse remained unresponsive despite their repeated calls for him. Screams that sounded like sharp nails scraping on the camper's metal and a low gurgle of groans, as if someone was in despair, resounded again close to the sliding door of the camper.
"Alright Jess, enough! Stop dicking around man." Von called out, as he moved closer to the front of the camper; determined to put his and the girls fears to rest.
As Von made his way up to the front of the camper, he noticed the keys were in the ignition; the radio was on; and turned down low.
A claustrophobic mattress occupied the area between the camper's front and rear seats. But Von scowled and furrowed his brows. Jesse, where in earth was he? Did he go pee somewhere? Since they were all in remote areas, did he try to locate the closest gas station, if there was even one. Von could make out some smudges on the rolled-down driver's window in the dark, even though the window was fully open. It was something.
"What the—" Something grabbed Von's head as he was going to place his thumb on the strange smear on the camper. Clamping down on the sides of his temples, it not only gripped his head but also felt like simple suction. Nails were sticking out of whatever it was, slowly probing his body and even his skull. As his lifeless form slithered out the window, Von screamed for help; he had been snatched.
TBC...
𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐈𝐈: 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨-𝐌𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬. (P.2.)
"You can't be that afraid, you played Jennifer Check, in Jennifer's Body." Kourtney said, as she and Megan ventured out of the camper.
Before he was either abducted or—like himself—played a very sinister prank on them, the two ladies could heard Von struggling for air. No matter what it was, neither Megan nor Kourtney thought it was humorous. Megan started to bite the inside of her cheek as she wondered where they were as they walked hand in hand along the lonely, dark gravel road. Just where were Jesse and Von? Furthermore, she couldn't see why her friend thought a "horror" picture would be realistic in any way.
Megan glanced across at Kourtney and gestured to her jacket pocket, her expression betraying her irritation. "Is your phone charged now?"
"Yeah,"
With a small beat of silence, coupled with irritation Megan spoke again. "Flashlight! Turn on the fucking flashlight!"
Mumbling her own curse words under her breath, Kourtney obeyed and turned her flashlight on, her phone. They continued down the dark road, every so often checking behind them to make sure their camper was still there. Megan ran a hand through her messy, brunette hair and grumbled. "Jesse! Von! This isn't funny, c'mon!"
In return, all she heard was her own echo of her voice. Beside her, Kourtney called for the guys too; and received the same callback—just an echo of their mixed voices.
This was starting to become more than just a game; it was becoming a major source of anxiety for ladies. Perhaps they should have thought twice before agreeing to Von's irrational idea to rent a camper and go somewhere they couldn't possibly predict, especially since they didn't have all of the details. Over the course of the mile or so that they had traveled, Megan saw that neither Jesse nor Von were around. It also appeared like the shrieking, screaming, and scraping noises that they had heard before had subsided.
Kourtney tried to make the dirt road more apparent by shining her phone ahead, but she veered her teeth in frustration when she discovered it was useless. "Lets just... go back to the camper. I'm sure dumbass one and dumbass two will come back."
Megan frowned, folding her arms across her chest. "No, something is wrong. They're in trouble or could be hurt."
"Meg, it's Von and Jesse. How hurt could they be?" Kourtney tried to laugh, though her voice was laced with pure anxiety; that Megan could be right. "For all we know, Von set this whole thing up. When Jesse gets around him, they share one single brain cell."
That part was true. Megan had to admit. Jesse and Von did often joke around too much; but her gut feeling was saying something different. Something was very wrong...
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Wet. Muddy, wet earth was almost like a plaster on his face. In excruciating agony, Jesse sat up, as if struck in the head by Sammy Sousa's bat. He was engulfed in darkness and had the unsettling sensation of being seated in a dark grotto or pit. He drew back in pain as he extended his arms forward, a sensation that had previously been absent. What the fuck happened? Before everything went dark, his final memory was of sitting at the front of the camper, attempting to get a signal on his phone. Had he passed out after taking too many mushrooms? He has a strong aversion to that kind of hallucinogenic substance, therefore it can't be. He moaned beneath his breath as he ran his hands through his matted hair and felt the dampness on his palm. Was that blood? Jesse was certain that he would appear pitiful if he could see his reflection in a mirror.
His legs gave out from beneath him as he attempted to rise. Redirecting him to his sitting posture, he moaned even louder as a searing agony surged through his spine. With clenched jaw and a mix of anger, terror, and determination, he let out a hiss. He had to escape from this place, or wherever he was. He prayed that his friends were unharmed as well and had to find them.
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"Hello!"
"Hello! Can anybody hear me!"
"Hel—fuck!" Screamed Von as he slid right back onto the muddy ground.
For however long it seemed, he had been trying to claw his way out the darkened pit he was in; literally. Von had no idea who or what had taken him from the camper, but he had no intention of waiting around to find out if they returned. He didn't want to be featured on the six o'clock news as a criminal tale. He clenched his jaw and pounded the muddy wall with his hand, attempting to get a firm grip so he could climb up. He had spent five minutes trying to balance himself by sinking his booted feet into the ground, hoping to use it as leverage to climb out. However, he always went back down since the soil was more damp. Still, he would persist; in fact, he felt compelled to. All Von wanted to do was get out of this black hole and find out what happened to Jesse, Megan, and Kourtney.
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Kourtney clutched onto Megan's arm, now feeling more frightened than ever. They had been walking for what seemed like an hour and still they found no sight, of their friends. Megan trembled as she too, held onto Kourtney.
"They're dead." Kourtney mumbled tearily.
Megan pouted out her bottom lip. "Don't say that."
"They are, they're dead. We haven't been able to find them." Breaking away from Megan's warm body, Kourtney took more strides, into the middle of the dark road. Her voice raised in pitch with heightened fear. "They're dead! And we'll be dead too, if we stay around and keep walking the road to nowh—"
Smack.
Just like that, it appeared out of nowhere! It was a truck—not a car—possibly a bus? Kourtney was knocked off the gravel road and her body was smashed by whatever it was. As the damp slap of Kourtney's blood splashed her cheeks, Megan stood there, shocked. Neither did she open her eyes; in fact, she remained still throughout. Refraining from moving would save her the burden of acknowledging and accepting what had just transpired. “That didn't just happen,” Megan mentally echoed to herself.
Megan felt the cold blood on her cheek as she peeked open one eye and reached out to touch the drops. It really happened. She had seen it all, and now she was crying out in pain at the sight of her friends' blood on her cheeks. Tears welled up in Megan's eyes like a dam about to burst. She bolted, sprinting. Where to go? Whatever it was, she was determined to flee from this nightmare as fast as she could. Because that's all it was, right? A nightmare of the worst kind. —
Megan...
Megan...!
"Megan!" Von shook her rapidly and roughly as he loomed over her in the backseat of the camper. His facial expression twisted in pure, concern.
"Ah! G-get off me! Stop shaking me!" Megan roared, shoving Von off her.
Pissed, Von sneered at her and slammed his back against the seat. "What's your problem? You were screaming and crying in her sleep. I was just trying to wake you up from your nightmare."
"Nightmare?" Came her soft pliant voice. "It was just... a..." Craning her neck up, peering heavily and maneuvering her body to peak into the front seat she saw Jesse and Kourtney.
Jesse flashed her a curious look, as his hand rested on the steering wheel. "You okay, babe?" He asked as then focused his eyes back on the road.
Kourtney snickered and turned a bit, facing Megan. "Yeah, you were screaming in your sleep. Having night terrors again?"
"More like annoyances." Von mumbled, as he palmed his face. "And she kicked me in the process. At the next stop, we're all switching and I'm sitting up front. Someone else can get kicked by her."
With her beautiful face contorted into the most perplexed look, Megan remained silent. It seemed like everything was happening in real time; surely it was! Surely Megan had seen Kourtney being run over; she had also heard the scything and screams; and Jesse and Von had vanished. Seriously, however, wasn't that all real? As she sank back into her seat and rested her hands on her head, she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. Just what was going on? Was a manic episode about to strike her? Megan didn't believe in things like Final Destination and premonition. The "nightmare" had been so lifelike—she could smell, see, and hear everything.
Von extended his arm beside her and started to rub her shoulder carefully. As he went in closer to kiss her on the temple, she could make out the worried sighs from his lips. "You gonna be alright?"
As Jesse pulled into the next truck stop, he turned so he was facing both Von and Megan. His attention though, with narrowed eyes heavily on Von. "You are no longer allowed to bring the "scooby snack" man."
Looking up from the comfort he was giving Megan, Von's dark features slithered into a smirk. Megan's own blue eyes darkened, as she squinted heavily. That's what this was? A shroom trip? All that chaos, collided terror... was a hallucination in a dream?
Kourtney had startled the man in the truck beside them, as her high pitched laughter echoed out of the car. Megan, began to wail on Von; smacking him, in his chest as she rambled on about how much her trip had fucked her up. Pretty soon, all of them hurled in breathy laughter; vowing that they would lay off the "snack" until they reached their destination.
(It was all fiction, but a little scare never hurt anybody darlings. Xoxo.)
Venom Fame—Solo.
In the mirror of her dressing room, Megan peered at her reflection. She was carefully examining her bare face, which will likely be covered with foundation shortly. Megan would insist that every makeup artist hide her freckles when she was first starting out in "Hollywood" doing what her mom referred to as "the starter pack" of modeling. Now that she was older and had survived the emotionally draining stardom period, she couldn't care less about hiding her freckles. Her freckles were her bruises, and she was proud of them, much like the narrator in Fight Club. Why shouldn't she take pride in her imperfections, her freckles? Along with everything else that distinguishes her from the "typical" Hollywood beauty optimal.
Upon contacting her for an interview, VOGUE placed a strong focus on having a photoshoot. At the time of the conversation, Megan could only convey her indecision; she didn't agree until yesterday. Even she was anticipating the interview questions with a trite mind, knowing that sarcasm never looks well on paper. She thought she had run out of things to say after talking on the phone with her brother James this morning on the way to the set. Besides Megan's three pals, James was likely the only one with whom she had meaningful conversations.
Even the prospect of being on VOGUE's cover, much alone being interviewed, was something Megan really disliked. In any case, why did they insist that she do it? Megan was stereotyped as a shallow, self-centered "Dark like Witch woman" by the public and media throughout the world. How far from the truth could they get? Many in Hollywood were irritated by Megan since she had strong opinions. Nobody liked it, and when they understood she wasn't only a "pretty face" or a "sex symbol," they were shocked.
With her tongue gliding across her teeth, she continued to examine herself in the mirror. After almost two months of complete isolation in Palm Springs, her jet-black hair was beginning to show signs of fading from the excessive sun exposure. Whoever was doing Megan's hair and cosmetics today could just apply a little temporary hairspray to darken her locks again, she reasoned. There was a time crunch, and she wanted to get dolled up as soon as possible so she could undress and return to her isolation.
Within fifteen minutes Megan was sitting in the chair, having small talk with the makeup artist. She nodded lightly, not wanting to disrupt the craft, that was happening.
"You haven't really done an interview in like two years." Her artist pointed out, as he outlined her eyes with blue eyeliner.
Megan smirked, and what a good two years it had been. "Massive seclusion is something I really enjoy. This..." Trailing off, Megan crossed her left leg over her right one and sighed, giving a shrug as to finish off the rest of her thought.
Her artist nodded shortly, reaching behind him to grab the soft palet brush. Dipping it, in a honey like gloss; he delicately swept it across her bottom lip. "Everyone goes through a period of hating stardom."
"I don't hate what I do, I don't hate films; I enjoy acting." Pausing, Megan tried to find the correct words to convey her thoughts. "I just dislike the media hysteria of hive minds. I make dark jokes, I hate tattoos, and all of sudden I'm possibly crazy? Yes, I may be crazy but that doesn't stop me from having worthwhile opinions."
Megan saw it as a sign that her makeup artist was either uncomfortable with her or was just accustomed to dealing with egotistical celebrities who revel in gushing about the wonderful implications of fame and notoriety since he remained silent. As the glamor continued, Megan maintained her composure. In case things went south during the interview, she was already planning an aggressive strategy.
It was easy for Megan to see herself wearing her first set of clothes on a daily basis. In a profound way, it paid tribute to the traditional Dolce & Gabbana. An ebony gown adorned with dazzling gemstones. It clung to her figure, drawing attention to her bust, and enhancing her figure in a lovely manner. Megan and the stylist had a little argument during the fitting because Megan did not want to hide her tattoos. Just what was its purpose? Neither the need nor the desire compelled her to do so.
Surprisingly, the photoshoot turned out well. Each clothing that was picked out for Megan was just fantastic, and she couldn't believe it. She donned a plethora of gowns, some of which were stunning tributes to classic Hollywood styles, and embellished pantsuits. All the way down to the shoes' heels, which Megan was relieved to be able to retain for herself. After the session, Megan removed her makeup and changed into her own stylish clothing.
Her shoes, black pants, and a Motley Crew tee. Before heading outside and settling upon the crimson sofa, she brushed some gloss over her pouty lips and tousled her hair. Hoping that this time during her interview with VOGUE, her remarks would be accurately reported and not misquoted, she raised her head forward to take in the illumination. It was an unrealistic expectation; Megan was well-versed in the machinations of Hollywood.
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"You spoke about the position of women in Hollywood, is that something you think people don't like to hear?"
"I do. Many people want women to be offended or pushed into a place of complimence with their sexual allure." She paused, musing a hand through her hair and continued. "It's not something I'm ashamed of and no other woman should be for that matter."
The next couple of questions were light hearted and a few about when's the next time Megan would be seen on the big screen. Grinning a bit, the cute actress tugged at her left ear and shrugged.
"That's all subjective right now, I mean I want to be casted in something that really shakes me. I want to work with people whom get along and everyone has fun."
"Do you often dislike some of your co-stars?"
Tricky question. Megan sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Who hasn't disliked a few people they've worked with. And, I'm sure I've pissed off a lot of people whom I've worked with too. But, I'm older now, changing so that's all that matters."
As the interview was wrapping towards the end, Megan and the interviewer became wrapped in a conversation of various topics. The ambiance of the interview was light; which surprised the brunette.
"You said that you wished you could shave your head, move out of the country and just be with three lovers? Somewhere, indulging in psychedelics and not returning to Hollywood, is that true?"
Megan, now drew her left leg up to her chest and chuckled at her own words. She couldn't help but wonder who the interviewer had contacted for the comment, let alone why it seemed to be so polarizing. "Yeah, I did say that."
"Is that still something you want?"
Megan began explaining, using her hands for added animation and emphasis. "...I love what I do, and I haven't gone completely insane yet as you can see. I still have my hair, not bald. But who knows." Giggling lowly, she pressed on. "The scrutiny of who I am, the tattoos I have, the people I date or don't date are always the speculated topic. And, I just don't enjoy that type of attention. So yeah, I wanna shave my head. I get hot when I'm trying to do my hair all the time; I'm like a pain in the ass when it comes to getting ready. Having three lovers is just me wanting to free, and slightly unserious. I don't know, I love, the idea of true love. And the whole never returning to Hollywood... I'm still here aren't I? Not officially sane, but still here."
The interview ended well. Megan shared her thoughts and offered proof on how certain psychodelics might heighten consciousness. In general, Megan felt somewhat better about her VOGUE interview this time around. Doubtful that she would conduct a slew of interviews and hit the press circuit. However, Megan was certain that this one would deter her for a while. That is, until she decided to audition for a film part, which would require her to do repeated sit-down interviews in which she would have to defend herself against criticism of her statements.
It was that venom of Hollywood that kept Megan here. That controlled and uncontrolled chaos, which Megan hated and loved all at the same time.
She—M'—Esoteric.
How does she appear amid ebbs and flows of all things, but only a chosen few have laid eyes on her? How can her soothing demeanor enchant everyone, but leave an impression on only a select few? Maybe she's a heavenly entity, rare and uncompromising, with a limited supply.
To the outside world, she is no different from the consumer of society opinion. Instead of looking away, her blue eyes lock onto the person staring back at her. The spirit of poetry that is living, darker, wicked tendril, kind, and light shall remain unbridled. Not a saint, barely a fallen angel.
How can the sum of her inhalations and exhalations be considered collective? There won't be enough available, and even fewer will have this access. Without holds, without maybes, and without forced intensity, she needs to be conquered, brought down, and loved to the utmost. She will adore, disassemble, and inflict the same on souls without preconceived beliefs.
unwilling to separate the mind and emotions. Nevertheless, wild, unruly, raspy and vibrating.
Feeling feverishly down in any and all places, while desperately seeking that one spot where everything will finally make sense. Cold, ice eyes that desire to melt, heated lips, and creased emotions.
Cherry thrilled with its softness and delicacy. Even yet, she is nefarious and alarming with the pits of hell stored deep inside her. Having an overwhelming desire to immerse oneself in something or someone.
Is it possible to rein her in, brand her, and put her straight? On the other hand, is she trying to find the right quantity, like two sides of a coin?
Indifferent~
Convincing, unsurmountable, and unacceptable. Frayed, crooked, severe. Agonizing, altruistic, and catastrophic. Urgent, story-based, guarded. Abnormal, evil, repulsive, untamed. Impure, personal, vindictive, and malevolent. Neither interested nor involved. Unconcerned, she remains. Here she is, completely anonymous but with a clear idea of her desires. Untied, arms at liberty, eyes large, lips parted in a display of magnificence. She is now more than just a placator. Disappearing from view. She has entered a realm of unadulterated reality. With no turning back and no hopping forward. Here she will shape herself, eliminate what doesn't work, and hold on to what she allows.
𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝. Solo—
She reached out and put her arm in the loop of her exquisitely made wings. Megan understood, without a shadow of a doubt, that she wasn't supposed to use these wings for real flight. It was all for show. made for her in-production film, by very talented individuals in the prop department. However, the stunning actress had spent the whole day mulling over the thought of escaping the confines of the present shooting site.
Megan was oblivious to the passing of time since she could not see a single window. Everyone was moving at a snail's pace, so it had to be late. The length of the takes was increasing, and she was about ready to disappear into the dim lights. Megan took a deep breath, exhaled, and then gave it her all as the cameras started rolling. And yet, what did she do best? This scenario, in which she is both nude and adorned with angel wings, obviously couldn't be the only one.
The director was prompted to begin winding up today's session by one of the mic operators giving him the thumbs up. Returning to her dressing room in a flash, Megan outpaced both the creative art director and the tailor. Taking off these wings was necessary for her. She was determined to remove them from her. There was this irony in the thought that she was too "wicked" to wear such radiant wings, and it seemed as if she was boiling over everywhere.
Why couldn't Megan just be an angel? The thought of missing out on paradise? So she would be sent into a state of eternal damnation, a limbo state, a bottomless pit? No. There was absolutely nothing standing between the little lady and her role as the earthly angel. However, an angel served no practical use.
The set's trailer door was ripped open by Megan, who moaned in agony as the wings' springs pierced her lower back. Well, they really did get their claws into her, even for such lovely wings. As prop management removed them, she bit her bottom lip and covered her naked body with the towel.
Megan heard the door open as Jesse walked in after she had taken it off. Just by inhaling his signature cologne perfume, she knew it was him. Its scent, which was both minty and musky, lingered long after it was gone. The design director and the props said their goodbyes to Megan and then departed. As he stepped past her, Jesse sat down on the sofa and sent her an awkward glance. As Megan folded her arms across her chest, the scowl on her face became even more pronounced.
"S'wrong?" Jesse asked as he crossed his left leg over his right one.
A silent Megan remained. She understood what was wrong, but the words she wanted to speak seemed to become lodged in her throat. Additionally, her mind was wandering aimlessly. Regardless of the criticism and the hostility that the film had already received, Megan seemed to be having fun in her performance. However, she was unable to evade the public's social perception of her.
She looked across at her companion and arched an eyebrow as she gnawed on her lower lip. The only thing Jesse could do, like a rabbit caught in the headlights, was gaze back. In the past, friends would have maintained this kind of emotional and psychological bond. Just for this second, it was gone. At long last, the gorgeous actress settled onto one of the trailer's seats. With her delicate legs crossed, she ran her fingers through her hair, removing any remaining hairpins and cosmetics stray strands.
A rough breath from her mouth once more. Why was she acting strangely? The inquiry was both rhetorical and disgusting. Certainly not "anything" but certainly not "something" was amiss with Megan. Leaving the comfort and familiarity of her picturesque, isolated Palm Springs retreat, she may have returned to the world of Hollywood too quickly. Perhaps, just perhaps, she was about to go insane.
The ignite of Jesse's spliff sparked Megan's nose; and began to invade the only but so much space of her trailer. Her blue eyes watched as he inhaled the sweet sedative, and he quirked an eyebrow as if asking, if she wanted some. Did she?
Her great involvement in the fields of psychodelics is known to all who knew Megan or who come to know her. She personally spent the first three weeks in the depths of her Palm Springs flee enjoying effects to mushrooms. She experienced dizziness, a lack of gravity, and the tantalizing impression of being unfettered. Megan found total liberation in the desert, which was picturesquely located next to the Springs' house. A spliff, then, did not dissatisfy the attractive lady. She took three deep breaths and let out a puff of smoke as she seized it from Jesse.
She floated aimlessly, her mind racing with the question of what was wrong with her. She did not anticipate feeling depressed. Nothing more than the paralyzing dread that something was amiss. Megan may have read too much into her part for this film, too. Maybe her thoughts were whirling around the spliff that was nestled between her thin fingers. As she let out another breath, she saw the smoke whirl and crash about the room. Jesse nodded in satisfaction as he slouched back into the sofa, delighted by the situation. Naturally, this might be the opinion of any Hollywood actor, actress, or anyone of royal likeness. Writing down this "unknown" feeling in one of Megan's several diaries would provide her comfort. For the simple reason that she could be losing her sanity.
Solo—
Half-awake and somnolent, Megan's eyes were blurred. An immediate haze from last night appeared to be buzzing around in her head. Obviously, it seems like she was or was just out partying. She, however, had not been. But the stunning actress had spent much of previous night attempting to put pen to paper in an effort to record her most complex thoughts and poetry. Considering she had dozed off while reading one of her notebooks, she woke up with a slight twinge of pain in her back and a severe ache in her shoulders.
The inside of her home was captivated by the rich and illuminating light of the rocky mountain sun. That alluring sunlight, which emitted a celestial radiance across her bedroom and glistened on the paper trails that lay beside her bed. What kind of imagination did Megan have to tear, split and go ballistic in her own diaries?
Those were the morning thoughts that raced through her mind. As she firmly planted her bare feet on the floor, the actress stretched out her limbs and let out a series of sighs and yawns through her pouty lips. She got up from her seat on the bed, her every move accompanied by the crunch of papers.
'Throughout the entirety of life, there are thorns in the side that are present at every turn. Thorns that nick the skin but do not cause any wounds; the mere awareness that they existent is enough to cause pain.' Megan read out loud, as she scraped up the papers off her bedroom floor.
After Megan tossed a lock of her brunette hair over her shoulder, she analyzed her calligraphy. The experience of reading her words again was almost alien. Megan set the sheet of paper on the bed, yawned once again, and absentmindedly ran her hand over her flat stomach. She often struggled to comprehend the poetry or drabbles she wrote. But this minor effort was totally slipping her mind.
A cup of tea with mint and lavender was in order as she made her way to the kitchen. With a delicate grip of the floral tea cup, she filled the kettle with water, placed it on the burner, and rested her slender finger on the tip of her brown tresses. What made the woman feel compelled to write in not one, but multiple journals last night due to what was so obvious to her.
There, on her marble countertop, towards the far end, was her camera. Megan liked several things, one of which was to fantasize about being a photographer. She usually snapped armature visuals and trivial shots of her friends, with her friend Jesse being as her primary inspiration. Never once did he appear to care. But here in the rugged highlands, far from the Hollywood controversies Megan would snap pictures of every route she trekked, every flower she felt was lovely, and every so often, a photo of herself.
'To take a deep breath in and out slowly—to collect something—to flee. Meandering paths of utter stillness, the tranquil spirit, a sliver of serenity... an a fragment of quiet.' Megan's lips uttered these words, as she firmly brought her tea cup to her lips and listened to stilted wisp of the wind.
Her azure eyes were narrowed as she gazed out over the meandering trails below from her balcony. Staring at the serene water flow, the towering grass, and the rising sun that appeared to go on forever. Peace. The need for calm was pressing on her. The actress couldn't find this kind of harmony anywhere—Chicago, New York, or California. No surprise; she had distinguished herself as someone who could always find meaning in the regions of escape. She drank a little more tea, letting the soothing warmth of the drink permeate her body. Her small frame had never felt anything like the comforting properties of lavender. With no ideas or words rushing through her mind, the stunning actress felt a simmering quiet.
Megan, who had come to think of her balcony as a haven, lounged her body lazily over the railing and marveled over the wonderful visista. Carefully setting her tea cup on the railing, she retrieved her 35mm camera and snapped a shaky image of the riveting scenery, as if it were an accessory she always had on hand. These pictures weren't meant for publications like VOGUE, LIFE, or TIME; they were just meant for her.
She let out a long breath as she snapped a couple more shutter releases, her jaw hanging open. Megan aspired to maintain her morning routine even after regaining her celebrity status and attending award shows, casting photoshoots, and all the other events that Hollywood anticipated of her. She would sip her tea, take her pictures, and read the numerous unfinished poems she had been composing for the time being.
“In those fleeting instances, existence yearns to be shattered. Fractured fragments, waiting to be assembled throughout a lifetime. Discovering a solitary piece in the vast expanse, while other days yield no fragments at all. Every day is a captivating enigma, beckoning to be unraveled, to begin anew—and again.” —M.
𝑺𝒉𝒆—𝑰𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒍𝒆
Her breath dances, as her chest gracefully rises and falls. Awe-struck, with a vacant gaze and flickers of brilliance. Reaching eagerly for the sun, the moon, the stars. From sunrise to sunset, strolling through the fragrant Earth for everything and nothing.
A fleeting reverie within her, a mere figment to all others. Thought about and recalled—valued and relinquished. How does she embody both the entirety of existence and the absence of it? Having both sweetness and acrimony? Playfully unpredictable, deeply grounded, and exquisitely free.
She inhales, her breath a gentle whisper, as if the very air itself holds secrets. Exhaling, she releases a sigh that strolls with the wind, carrying her thoughts and dreams into the vast expanse of the universe. A captivating embrace of perilous perfumes, whimsical whispers, and tantalizing tenderness.
𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒕
It's almost a crime to let her soul fade. Her tongue weaves intricate patterns, a tantalizing dance of language. Like an entity descending from the heavens, only to be ensnared by the trials and tribulations of the world.
Breathtakingly stained, tightly wound, perilous in contemplation. Overflowing with vibrant energy, she looms a tapestry of contrasting emotions. Oddly satisfying, almost like kismet in sin.
Behold, there she stands... unforgiving, adorned with beauty, a quiet malevolence intertwined with the very fabric of existence.
My first move as a tieffling warrior in DnD, Sirius.
He was efficient I guess 🤔
(He finds the escape)
My baby Sirius who's the opposite to the "dark sasuke" vibes~
He has daddy vibes and @d-choppy draws this scene soooo good! Can't wait to continue the campaign and make more comics!
"Little bird" Just a little comics i made with my dnd oc and her companions. She was injured and found herself in a small coma. while waiting for her companions to wake up, Sirius (the tifling) has carved a small wooden bird which he left in her belongings, this is the moment she finds it. Sirius End @mizaryroku (Translate)
Sirius : Yes .... hum ... it's me, i just did it to pass time... until you wake up ... yes .... a gift Sitelle : Thanks, it's beautiful. I like it Bonus : Sitelle : Ah crap
: ̗̀➛ ᴿⁱⁿᵍ ᴿⁱⁿᵍ ... ★
Helloo, loves! This is my non-ask blog based account! If you wanna check them out I'll tag them. This account is also, of course, for rps! I'll give some info and stuff :3 I go by she/her tho idrm they/them!
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fandoms I'll do for rps :
TOH / THE OWL HOUSE | char pref : Amity, Luz, Emira, Hunter | ships : huntlow, lumity
TDI / TOTAL DRAMA ISLAND | char pref : Gwen, Courtney | ships: Duncney, Gwourtney
RTC / RIDE THE CYCLONE | char pref : Penny/Jane Doe, Ocean | ships : Spacedolls, perfectdolls
EAH / EVER AFTER HIGH | char pref : Darling, Raven, Apple, Lizzie | Darling x Apple, Raven x Apple, Raven x Dexter, Apple x Briar, Lizzie x Chase, Lizzie x Kitty
SPIDER-STUFF | char pref : Tom's MJ | ships : MJ x Peter
ST | char pref : Nancy, Max, Mike, Will, Robin | ships: Lumax, Byler, Robin x Vickie
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If I follow you it's prob cause I think you're rlly cool!!!
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@courtneysatella101 - Courtney (tdi) ask blog
@ask-emirablight - Emira (Toh) ask blog
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my rps <3
: ̗̀➛ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉᵈᵒˡˡˢ ʳᵖ / ᴾᵉⁿⁿʸ ˣ ᴿⁱᶜᵏʸ ... ★
user is RICKY POTTS !!
the rp is before the accident !!
the rp kinda has a headcannon. Ricky uses an iPad/tablet to communicate !!
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okay maybe this is based on a c.ai bot butttttt it's okay I changed it + typed it myself 🤫
idk if Ricky would be allow on the bumper cars but maybe not for this? Idrk. I also dk if Penny would still be allowed to go to school (prob) so srry if anything like that is wrong.
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𖤓 | Penny Lamb. You hadn't ever really "spoke" to her. You've heard stuff about her, 100%. How she's now on probation and goes to your school. Rumours didn't mean much to you. Not that you even paid attention to any. It was a bit unexpected when Penny joined the choir, but whatever. She joined the very last minute. A few days before the trip. She seemed nice though. She helped you out getting on and off the bus and she was just generally a chill person. She didn't seem like the kinda girl to attack someone (an ex-celebrity of course). She was mostly hanging around you the whole day, which was cool. You didn't really type much on the tablet. Your head being... Else where, to the least. But it was nice. The choir decided to head to the bumper cars, cause why not. They were close by and stuff. While they all rushed to get to the bumper cars, that left you trying to catch up as fast you could with Penny beside you. You couldn't go on them. But you still wanted to stand nearby and watch them. " Y'know, " Penny stated to speak. Keeping her pace to match with yours. " I can wait for them to get off with you if you'd like. " | 𖤓
KIRK IS GAY ROBERT’S GAY LARS IS GAY BUT THEY GAYEST IS JAMES🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥🔥 GUESS WHO’S REALLY FUCKIN GAY⁉⁉⁉ ROBERT LARS AND KIRK AND JAMES🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣 THEY LIKE SUCKING COCKS WHILE THEIR BUTTHOLE’S BEING POUNDED🔥🔥 THEY LIKE DICKS IN EVERY HOLE🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣⁉⁉ THEY ALL SWALLOW ASSES WHOLE🔥🔥🔥🔥⁉⁉⁉⁉ KIRK DOES LARS WHO IS ALREADY GAY WITH JAMES AND ROBERT⁉⁉ KIRK IS GAY ROBERT’S GAY LARS IS GAY🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 KIRK IS GAY ROBERT’S GAY LARS IS GAY BUT THE GAYEST IS JAMES🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣 JAMES WILL FINGER KIRK TILL 6🔥🔥⁉ THEY SUCK ON ROB AND LARS’S DICKS🔥🔥🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣 WHILE THE BALLS OF KIRK ARE SAFE INSIDE HIS ASS🗣🗣🗣⁉⁉⁉ KIRK’S HAND IS FISTED UP WHEN IT’S TWISTED IN JAMES’S BUTT🔥🔥🔥 ASS TO MOUTH⁉⁉ THRUST TO BUST🗣🗣 IN JAMES’S ASS🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥🗣⁉⁉ YEAAH KIRK IS GAY ROBERT’S GAY LARS IS GAY (WITH JAMES)🔥🔥🔥 KIRK IS GAY ROBERT’S GAY LARS IS GAY🗣🗣🗣🗣 LARS IS A HOBBIT⁉⁉⁉⁉⁉ DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DAA DAAA DAA DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DA 🗣🗣🗣🗣🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 CLIFF WAS GAY 🗣🗣 JASON’S GAY 🔥🔥 ROB’S A FAGGOT⁉⁉⁉⁉⁉ ASS TO MOUTH🗣🗣 THRUST TO BUST IN JAMES’S ASS⁉⁉ KIRK IS GAY ROBERT’S GAY LARS IS GAY (WITH JAMES)🔥🔥🔥🔥 KIRK IS GAY ROBERT’S GAY LARS IS GAY BUT THE GAYEST IS JAMESSUH🗣🗣🗣🗣⁉⁉⁉⁉🔥 ASS TO MOUTH🗣 THRUST TO BUST IN JAMES’S ASS🔥🔥🔥⁉⁉⁉ THE GAYEST IS JAMES🗣🗣🗣🗣 YEAH🔥 THEY’RE GAY LIKE STING AND BONE⁉ YEAH YEAH YEAH🗣🔥 HEAH🔥 THEY SURE LIKE SUCKING DICK⁉⁉⁉🗣🗣🗣 DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DAA DAAA DAA DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DA 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣 DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DAA DAAA DAA DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DA DAA DA DA DA DA DA DA 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣 GAY? YES ⁉⁉⁉ AT LEAST ON THE DOWNLOW🔥🔥 GAY? YES ⁉⁉⁉ AT LEAST ON THE DOWNLOW🔥🔥🔥
My Eye
⭐🌌My eye is doing the weird thing again ugh lmk if any of you guys have this problem, I cant be the only drone whose eye does this right? 🌌⭐
YOU THERE. MURDER DRONES FAN WITH OCS.
Do YOU wanna do text-based roleplays with your MD OCs on Discord??
COME ON OVER TO @mothwingedmyths ‘s MD RP Server!! Still just starting so bear with us as we work everything out ^^
Alright soo I been here for a while and I decided to finally make an intro :]]
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Supp my name is Maxwell/kenji/rodrick but call me max or rad rod
im a minor and Mexican:🇲🇽
I’m also into rp so if your interested on rp dm me or tell me if your interested I’m also a beginner artist so maybe I’ll post my art I have made
Im testing pronouns but I go by he/she/they
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My inbox or question box is open so feel free to ask any questions , headcanons , theories or just say hi
My role play blog
@deathschildmaxwell
@the-chef-crew
Other blogs
@x0x0lovejsshit
@lx0st0nerswam
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This page is also a multi fandom account soo I’ll post abt my interests
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Video games I like
-sally face
-Franbow
-little miss fortune
-cry of fear
-afraid of monsters
-fnaf
-dead plate
-evil nun
-Mr.meat
-bully
-ice scream
-what remains of Edith finch
-Detroit becomes human
-poppy’s playtime
-Minecraft
-cuphead
- indigo park
-still wakes the deep
(I’m new to some of these fandoms)
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Some of my have movies
-fear street 1/2/3
-Chucky
-scream 1996
-the fnaf movie
-Willy’s wonderland
-la llorona
-Carrie 2013
-strangers
-orphan
-it
-mphfpc (I know its a bad movie adaptation but it’s a ok movie as a movie for me)
-heathers
-little shop of horrors
-mamá mía
- night at the museum 
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Series’s
-jwcc
-jwct
-supernatural
-camp camp
-ramshackle
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Mucials
-Little shop of horrors
-Heathers
-beetle juice
-Hamilton
-ride the cyclone
-bmc
(I’m new to some of these musicals)
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That’s it