fuck it. let it be begone, steampunk vampires.
*
With papers between his teeth, Jack manages to hook his fingers on the rim of the window and finds support for his feet on the side of the derailed locomotive felled by the explosives buried under the tracks days earlier. The gunshot wound in his shoulder cries for attention as he tries to brace on his elbow, more so, when his wrist is grabbed by an iron grip pulling him out of the armored engine like a hooked fish from an ice hole - and with no grace allowed he's thrown to the dry grass below.

bad bloodborne hc before i forget it: the hunter is directly responsible for the original sin and the original curse of yharnam - queen yharnam and mergo. it's a causal loop. the hunter ventures into the dungeons that operate on dreamlands logic and kills both queen and mergo which causes mergo never being born, but since mergo (and by connection to mergo yharnam herself) is a great one (albeit infant) physical death doesn't stop it from existing.

which causes the fall of pthumeru. everything else is a direct consequence of this.

so after 2 years of it chilling on my playlist i finally got de. i mean, i knew i was going to like it but i love it based on less than an hour of playtime.

if i didn't know anything about the game's development and took cursory look at the wiki, and were much less chill person instead of laughing at the easter egg of pl guy being a cook who doesn't speak the language (and is referred to as 'hot cup' due to language barrier), i'd be going about racism and stereotyping or something because why you need to insert obviously pl dude into 'fantasy' game.

goretober prompts mix-n-match, probably. probably mostly fear stuff since it has around 50% from any list. sometimes spoilers or w/e
* 1. asphyxiation fear!au

There are hands on his neck and he can't fight back. Thumbs dig into his throat, don't let go - his right arm slips off the table and hangs loosely, swinging with each shove.

There are voices, incomprehensible behind the drumming buzz of static.

tenatively trying something.
*
t’s past nine in the evening and someone is leaning on his doorbell for the better part of last five minutes. The shrill sound makes his eyes water, and, for fuck’s sake, whoever that is, they can go and fuck themselves with a rusty rake. He’s off duty, nursing a hangover, and treating it with the hair of the dog that bit him. If anyone needs him, they can call him. On the phone, like civilized people.

At the five-minute mark, Leon rolls off the couch, steadies himself vertically, and slams the glass on the table

ok. so, if you want a phone that's nigh impossible to crack and trace when you don't want it traced? you need to get yourself one of the early-mid 2000s phones, there's a lot of them in near pristine condition. Preferably, cheaper models of nokia, sagem, siemens. 1. many of those phones run on close to one of a kind os and one of a kind encryption. the more streamlined the systems became with time, the more crackable each phone is, that's one of the negatives of having the general user friendliness increase.

Jack's always a little too lucky, a little too blessed, and a little too crazy, with things turning a little too well in his favor, a fearless (so, so stupid) hero in the vintage comic books from when the morality was black and white Gabriel had been collecting once. "It's my monster under the bed," Jack would answer, both the questions and the reprimands.

Gabriel won't remember why he'd been angry then, about what exactly, probably Jack playing at golden era hero, or something different, inconsequential.

Hearing her on the other side of the line is a relief.

You can run, you can run, you can run, the chant in the back of his mind is rising. You can kill him and go home. You can run and forget.

"I'm forwarding you coordinates at the landfill. Take the dogs and search." "What I'll be looking for?" Ana's curt, unusually so.

"Two bodies. If you find them, if you do, I can get you the gun."

"I don't need the gun."

"My testimony won't stand. I'm... compromised as a witness."

"Is this the reason for the silence and the state you're in?"

old time-fuckery thing because i need to motivate myself to write.
*
It's simply amazingly ridiculous whichever way he tries to wrap his mind around the situation. He's either having an elaborate death's door fantasy as he's pitifully lying somewhere out there bleeding out, or... Or this is the real deal.

The hall is eerily the same, just less worn out with age; the contraption that went off is missing. Hell, without it the area looks just like a weird cargo hold in the middle of the installation...

And then it fucking clicks where he'd seen it before.

honestly, i'm probably doing it all wrong, but kind of shameless thirstpost because i can't get one thing out of my mind. i really can't do 'sketches', huh? unfinished rn.
.
.
.
'don't you know that the devil is a gentleman?' *
Amelie had enjoyed putting the makeup on him, though there's probably not much of it left between the ride and the muzzle with the bit - not like Jack’s particularly interested in looking for a mirror to just see the mascara running.

feelers out to get a feel for dead-doving.

*

He should have taken the coat, not just the scarf, Jack thinks, observing the falling snowflakes, big and fluffy. Probably the first snow, too, all poetic and shit. He just needed some space to breathe and clear his mind, if only for a moment - hitching a ride with Amelie and Jesse on their morning trip to the shore seemed like a good idea then, not so much now.

honestly, adan is just getting bullied by his whole family. not without fault, of course, because he was the one that actually banged a bruxa, and murder-deer is pretty serious about setting him up with some rusalka or something. just to keep him away from vampire-kin. okay, maybe not the whole vampire-kin but definitely no bruxas. bruxas have that nasty habit of eating their dates.

uh, because i fcked up and lost a piece of text.based on old old old fic
*

“How old were you when you killed me?”

“Seventeen.” There’s something about this memory - the images and emotions traveling back and forth mako-infused double helixes, sometimes stuck and malformed in triple helixes – hate, so much hate, but whom did he hate then?

(...)
The overlay starts glitching again. It flickers off and on, fills in with grainy static before switching off completely. He managed to scrape by without it, so far, it’s no skin off his back.

Hana gasps something in Korean into her comm and Jack centers his sights on her. "Bunny?"

She jerks her head. Jack follows the direction of the movement, catches a wisp of dark smoke dissipating on the breeze. The Beast presses its full weight into his back with a liquid chuckle rolling until it becomes a purring growl, pins him to the ground.

mhm, short break, trying to crystallize an old idea.
*
After locking the door behind himself with the personal override that cut off all the outside communication, Gabriel turned to face the thing wearing Jack Morrison's skin sitting behind the Strike Commander's desk. He watched the pretense of any human emotion bleed out of Jack's face to be replaced with impersonal curiosity.

"If this is about the discourteous United Nations representative, in my defense, I was hungry, and he irritated me."

Great. Time for breathing exercises.

ohgodohgodohgodohgod coworker saw the pizza hut knot thing and i let my curiosity get better of me and asked if he knew what that all was about and now i made him curious ohgodohgodohgod time to salt the earth and fake my death ang live in the dungeons ohgod ....fuck he googled it

you know, it's absolutely bonkers when the actual insurrectionists that lived and fought in Warsaw Insurrection of '44 come out saying no to the current government's policy re LGBTQ because 'they know what dehumanization leads to' (news thanks to <3 waifu) and the propaganda TV - that serves as the mouthpiece of the ruling party that's all about Values! Tradition! God! Honor! Family! The Fighting Country! suddenly starts to badmouth them.

The Hurrah-Patriotic! regime literally just attacked the actual long-glorified by it heroes (because the insurrection

Finally! Invincible by Lem, audio drama. I love the minimalistic design, more so because it's on point in regards to the plot. It's one of his early works and it's a hard old-school science fiction more than it's a scientific or philosophical treatise he later produced. Of course, it's informed by the times and the reality of the author but probably not in the aspects the first time reader would expect.

maybe mermayds vaguely shadowrunnish
*
Coming off the sedation after being cut was always a mixed bag. This time, though, the bustle of the street outside filtered in slowly, rising like a wave over the ocean of the static and breaking over when the stims kicked in. The first breath was always the hardest, some kink in the lungs that kicked them into filtration mode each time the loss of consciousness occurred, and demanded focus from Jack to consciously switch back into atmospheric intake.

"With us again?"

fork it. let there be crack.

The Great Hulking Dragon of Unpronounceable Whatever (long for John but he went cordially by Jack anyway) sauntered down the corridor, a bottle of Ambrosia in each hand.

Sauntered wasn't exactly the right word - more like bounced from wall to wall. Which at least tripled the distance he had to cover but he was out of fucks to give because it was one of those days (or rather, months) - also, being one of the prime devils and a General under Satan herself came with certain perks: underlings, and many of them.