maximum--mayhem
Watch It GO
Who's the guy with two thumbs, a crooked smile, and enough bombs to keep you ticking forever? Well, if you find him send him over. I've only got one!
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Lewthur rps anyone? I honestly would love to rp with someone right now. Maybe something angsts that’ll have us in tears. Maybe some hurt/comfort. Maybe an AU? Maybe something a little off the wall but fun? Honestly, I would love it right now. I prefer Arthur, but I’ll play Lewis if you prefer. Please reblog, reply, or send a message if you’re interested!
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I would love to do a lewthur rp with someone! Anyone! I prefer Arthur but will play Lewis if asked. I’m up for any ideas, and I prefer 18+ partners. Please message me or reblog this and we can talk about an idea, an au, a starter, and of course content!
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I Wanna RP!
Preferably some Roadrat with me being a Jamie, but I’m also okay playing as Mako. I have a craving and a need for some angst and I would love any takers! Anyone interested, just send me a message and we’ll talk it out!
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No chill Jamison!
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Roadrat Requests Open
Looking for someone who wants to rp some Roadrat with me~. I tend to play towards Jamie myself, but I could negotiate with Mako. I'm open with AUs, and we can definitely talk about nsfw if that's what you're looking for. I'm just looking for some fun! Any takers? Anyone who wants to team up, just send me a message!
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Mallew could hardly care less about the dancing lights, the music or the dancing people before him, his eyes locked on the demon, his mind focused on the prospect that Arthur would soon be returned to him, and when the man in black approached him he handed the chain to him near instantly.
The king watched the lights surround the demon, his dim magenta irises shifting to stare at the man, Mallew’s shaky voice almost drowned out by the noise in the hall, the song and dance and merriment:
“Your master puts on quite the show, I admit, and I do hope to speak to him before this is over: I’m growing quite disappointed, no offense, in him sending all these messengers while I sit here, never seeing the face of the man that has made my life a living Hell these past few weeks…I almost want to shake his hand.”
The king let out a loud, rolling laugh, trying to make some light out of the situation, attempt some semblance of a joke, stay hopeful, under control…although this weak attempt at humor probably fell flat for Vampa’s messenger, especially with how clearly unstable the ghostly monarch was.
Now, with the demon out of Mallew’s grasp, no longer his burden, all that remained was for Vampa to uphold his end of the bargain and everything would be well.
It all would be over, FINALLY over, soon.
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"My Master prides himself on putting on a good show," the man said with a nod, "However, I fear he might have chosen an enemy that he shouldn't have made. We know of the workings you do where no one is supposed to see, and despite who it is you're aiming to get back, I personally feel sorry for how his existence has been planned out."
He made sure his grip was good on the chain, and he looked at the King with distain. "Personally, I find your actions barbaric, but my Master finds an odd fascination with you. I hope this doesn't lead to his downfall...but I do have one last message for you, from him."
He cleared his throat, and spoke in an almost mechanic voice. " He said, 'My dearest King, your ball has been a wonderful affair to attend. I haven't been able to play in public in such a long time, and I appreciate the opportunity. I will not disappoint you, patient King, and I ask that once the show is over, you look for the first musician to stand. Allow him a private moment, and you will receive your prize.' "
He let out a small sigh after message, and looked about. "Darn fool wants to make sure Dove and I are clear... I beg of you, don't hurt him." Above their heads, the figures danced together faster and faster, taking the attention of the audience. At the right moment, the figures suddenly clashed in a flash of sparks, mimicking fireworks that's rained down in beautiful sprinkles towards the guests.
This was well timed with the finale of the music, and once the last chord was played, the audience broke into applause. The very first to come up was a cellist in the back, wearing a black mask and flashing a white smile. As the King's attention went to him, the man from before disappeared with the demon.
Mallew could hardly care less about the dancing lights, the music or the dancing people before him, his eyes locked on the demon, his mind focused on the prospect that Arthur would soon be returned to him, and when the man in black approached him he handed the chain to him near instantly.
The king watched the lights surround the demon, his dim magenta irises shifting to stare at the man, Mallew’s shaky voice almost drowned out by the noise in the hall, the song and dance and merriment:
“Your master puts on quite the show, I admit, and I do hope to speak to him before this is over: I’m growing quite disappointed, no offense, in him sending all these messengers while I sit here, never seeing the face of the man that has made my life a living Hell these past few weeks…I almost want to shake his hand.”
The king let out a loud, rolling laugh, trying to make some light out of the situation, attempt some semblance of a joke, stay hopeful, under control…although this weak attempt at humor probably fell flat for Vampa’s messenger, especially with how clearly unstable the ghostly monarch was.
Now, with the demon out of Mallew’s grasp, no longer his burden, all that remained was for Vampa to uphold his end of the bargain and everything would be well.
It all would be over, FINALLY over, soon.
#Luigianon#KingMallew#Luigi Vampa#Yes#I am guilty for this anon too~#I'm going to reply here because of this#Delete the anon messages you have#Cause I'm tired of tumlre eating the parts~
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The disappearance of the woman, Vampa’s supposed “pigeon,” hardly registered in the ghost’s mind, his his head tilting up after he finished reading the letter, his draconic mask nodding in agreement of Vampa’s terms, knowing his mysterious enemy was watching.
As the cello rose its voice over the crowd, and the demon growled and huffed at its continued confinement, Mallew slumped into deep meditation, his thoughts echoing in his head:
“Only a little longer.”
His fingers twitched, his foot tapped hastily, angrily on the floor.
“What if they’re lying? I’m too weak to fight…their blood would be so good, though, I could hunt them, burn them down…”
His hand clenched into a fist, a slight, warped chuck sliding out of him, relishing the thought of killing Vampa and his “pigeon,” should they betray him…
“Getting Arthur back will be so nice, his bones snapping, blood flowing, cries and screams…I’ve missed him SO much…”
The king distracted himself with such thoughts, drowned out the music, kept the demon close at his side, waiting, watching for the demon to be taken from him: soon, he could be himself again, be calm, controlled, be around his people, not fear for them…
Soon, it would be over, the consequences of this exchange be damned.
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Mallew entertained his guests and those that had the courage to approach him as best he could, dodging questions about the demon and offering compliments and pleasant smalltalk in the most stable, calm tone he could manage, keeping the demon at bay as midnight drew closer and closer…
When the woman in white approached him, he tensed: she was the first to approach him in the past half hour or so, and she had such purpose, such elegance in her gait…
The thought to kill her crossed his mind, the thought of her choking, strangled, his flames burning her alive making his weakened, empathetic side recoil as his heart raced: he would surely go mad if this nonsense continued much longer, his bloodlust growing more and more desperate by the moment.
When she handed him the letter, the ghostly, masked monarch felt dread grow in his cold, hollow frame: this had to be from Luigi Vampa, and this most likely contained the next step he must take get Arthur back…
He opened it, fishing out the letter within, and began to read.
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By the time the pigeon had returned, things had taken a turn for the worst. The king had dissapeared from the public eye completely: only his advisors had seen him at all during the long, painful wait…and one of those sightings was when he had finally broken, given in, and a prisoner was dragged up from the sparsely-populated dungeon for the king to with what he willed…
This one victim sated his bloodlust enough for him to be somewhat coherent when the bird returned, although the bizarre feast the stranger asked of him seemed most…well, bizarre. He supposed the point of the soiree was to defame him, show that he had left the demon that the former king had used against his people alive, to have him grapple with the monstrosity, and show his own monstrosity in turn…the exchange of the king for the demon hardly seeming to dangerous to him in his manic, desperate state. So long as the demon lived, Arthur could not die, regardless of the distance between them…right? That’s what he understood, and chose to believe, in his current state.
He barely debated his response, sending a letter of acceptance back to his mysterious enemy, then spoke to his advisors, who, despite their initial resistance, we’re quickly bent to his will as the king’s whispered, tired commands turned to roaring, fiery, merciless ORDERS. They could see the pain, the shuddering, insatiable NEED for blood in his eyes, and despite their fear of having not only the demon, but their slowly degenerating king before the masses at a lively party, make them far past concerned…
Regardless, preparations began.
—-
The people had worried about their king, but as night drew close, and thousands appeared at the castle’s gates, disguised in masks of animals, monsters, and the warped visage of Man alike, their fears seemed to be eased: the king was not only still with them, but was throwing such a lavish, generous affair, no less!
Mallew, however, was not so enthusiastic: his tailors had gone overboard, his lavish, glistening ensemble of mixed purples, blacks, and magenta and the elaborate, realistic dragon mask they had crafted hid all indication of his identity, save for his glowing irises, which were growing duller, more unstable by the day, shining through the eyeholes of his mask, the eyes of an angry, fiery beast hellbent on returning his most precious belonging to his hoard…
The king threw open the doors of the demon’s prison, hearing the creature bellow in rage as he approached, surrounded as it was by bright, infinitely burning magenta flames, leaving it no shadow to flee to, merge with and escape…
He took the thing by the chain leash that was still around its neck, the flames around it following as the two monsters strode away in tandem, Mallew striding through the now busy, packed halls, keeping the creature at bay, feeling it’s strength for the first time in what had to be years, and when he was at his weakest.
He eventually made his way to the feast hall, reaching the head of the many rows of tables after much struggling from the demon, the king weakly stuttering out a welcome and a toast to all, before giving the vast crowd of disguised, unfamiliar faces before him the permission to eat.
As the feast began, Mallew’s hand held the demon’s leash tight, his flames keeping it at bay through sheer determination, sheer desperation for his plaything to be brought back under his control.
He needed only to wait for his enemy, that vile, PATHETIC thief to show their face, and he could again return his life to normal, and protect his people from himself…
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(Yay! I can officially come back~!) The maid gave out a soft hum in delight at the little pastries, her cheeks flushed a little as she looked at the very kind servants. "Thank you so much, but I don't need all of this. Please tell Master that I am highly grateful for this, but that all I would like is some time to rest. I'm going to indulge myself in this beautiful library. I'm almost sure to find something wonderful to read in here. Does the Master have any recommendations?"
The servants were a tad confused still as to who this woman was, how she got here, and why the king was so insistent that she be attended to, but one stopped questioning things harshly once one realized they worked for a fiery ghost man from another universe. Stranger things had happened in these castle walls than a strange woman showing up.
“Recommendations?”
The servants chattered between each other, some offering poetry collections, others grand tales of romance and adventure, others still offering pieces of satire and comedy…as for what the king recommended, he simply shrugged when he came back in the room and was questioned.
“I don’t really read much nowadays: too much to do, delegates to entertain, and enemies to scare off…”
He apologized for not being able to offer much of a recommendation, and asked if there was anything he could get or do for the woman to feel more comfortable, anything at all.
#tragicquartet#I'll start simply reblogging these onto the blog#I'll still invade your askbox unless asked otherwise#But here is the profile on the anon#Her name#Her backstory#All inspired by your Lewis#I hope you don't mind!
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"My my!" She exclaimed happily, giving a polite curtsy to the King. "You're one of the few I've seen with good manners! Pardon my surprise. I'm here to take care of the house and tend to the chores. I've been moving back and forth from so many locations to try and accompany all, but I fear I may be overworking myself at this point, but enough about me. How have you been, Master? I trust you've been keeping yourself entertained in some manner or another, right?" (Yes I'm back~.)
The ghostly monarch almost swept the woman off her feet with how quickly he directed her to a nearby room, a library filled with books and bright sunlight pouring in through large, ornate windows, Mallew gently but determinedly sitting the woman down in a comfy armchair, raising a finger at her and explaining as he turned to walk away:
“You will be taking a break for a while: I will not have such a kind, hard-working woman as you working herself to death on my watch. I’ll have the staff take care of you for a while. Take a load of and relax, dear.”
And with that, he was darting off out the door, several servants bearing trays of snacks and drinks coming in only a minute later, asking if there was anything they could do for the woman that their king had informed them was to be treated as a guest…
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The maid did her job as usual, cleaning up messes after her Master Lewis. Unfortunately, her time as of late has been stretched. Her loyalty was to the young master who was kind to her as a child. However, there were so many versions of him now that she found it a rather taxing job to now go to each one's home and clean up after them. More than one of them was fond of painting with blood after all. The next Lewis on her list was actually a King of sorts. Perhaps he wouldn't be too troublesome.
The monarch was relaxing in his throne room, enjoying a nice, peaceful read after dealing with Arthur this morning, his rage spent for the next few hours, and no diplomatic meetings to make it to today. Days this peaceful were few and far between, and he was going to thoroughly enjoy it…
His peace was quickly interrupted by a new presence in the room, however, and when he looked up from his book, he did a double-take.
“…you?”
He floated over to the woman, staring at her up and down: she was indeed that maid he had had at his old residence in his timeline of origin, here in his castle…how?
“I’m ecstatic to see you dear, but…how did you get here? Are you alright?”
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Hey, Maid anon here. I have a tiny request to make. I'd like to say that I was around when Lewis lived with his parents, but I was really little back then. My parents worked under him, though. He probably won't remember me, cause I was small and he only saw me once or twice back then, but I'm loyal to him because that's what I was taught. It's second nature really. Is that alright?
((…HOLY CRAP YES.
))
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*Maid anon takes a moment to look up at her, then reaches up and easily takes her gloved hand.* Mistress, thank you kindly for worrying about me. It's far better than I deserve from any of the occupants of this house, but please fret not. I came here knowing who my Master was and knowing what horrors have rumored to come from here. Thank you, but I am not afraid. *She gave her a kind smile, before raising up supplies.* Will you let me polish and align your frame now?
The Duchess went silent, black eyes wide with terror, slightly clenching the living maid’s hand in hers, memories of her own living days coming back to her…memories that, much like her master, she didn’t want to relive, but which filled her with an immediate instinct, an immediate imperative: protect this young lady.
“…I understand your choice dear, but please, PLEASE keep in mind who it is that you’re serving, and please, consider me an ally if you should ever choose to attempt to leave this place.”
The spirit lifted a finger to her mouth, emulating a shooshing motion while winking one eye, hoping that the maid would understand: keep this whole conversation a secret, or else they BOTH might be done for.
“And go ahead: it’s been a while since anyone’s done some proper cleaning around here.”
The Duchess relaxed back into her frame and allowed the maid to do what she willed.
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*Maid anon goes and does as she's told, polishing the frames of the paintings before taking the time to align them. A majority of the ghosts don't complain, simply continuing on with their own business as she aligns the frames.* Almost done... *She goes to polish and adjust the Duchess's frame, only to be met with a loud slap to the hand, making her skin turn red near instantly.* Ouch! *She steps back for a moment to examine her hand, more surprised than hurt.* That wasn't very nice...
The Duchess, seeing the maid step back, takes a moment to pop out of her frame a bit and hiss:
“That’s what you get! NEVER touch a lady’s things without asking her first: honestly, did you think that-”
The spirit went silent, eyes going wide with understanding…this maid, this new face in the mansion…she was alive.
���Oh my goodness honey, what are you doing here?! Don’t you KNOW who runs this place?”
The Duchess looks around herself, making absolutely SURE that her Master was nowhere in sight or earshot, shaking slightly. This was bad, BAD.
“Listen, you need to leave: the master of this house, he’s a madman: he leaves no living creature alive that comes across this place, his bloodlust knows no end! Leave, leave while you still can!”
Her tone was desperate, her hands resting on the maid’s shoulders, her eyes pleading, begging with her to leave. She’d seen so many innocent lives taken here, heard so many screams wafting up from the basement that went silent as death slowly crept in to silence them forever…the Duchess wished this fate upon no one. No one…
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As you wish, Master. *Goes to the library and sets to work. She starts by pulling the books from the shelf and noting the order it seems to be leading towards. She takes the time to dust ever book and starts organizing them, before climbing a letter and cleaning the shelves themselves. Once the books are back and organized, she cleans the rest of the room until it's spotless. When she's finally done, she returns to him.* Is there anything else you wish for me to do?
Lewis was skeptical of the woman, and although he already liked the idea of having a maid, having someone just randomly walk into his mansion and start offering to clean for him seemed…suspicious.
He kept out of sight as the maid cleaned up the library and…ended up falling asleep, only to be woken up by the gentle poke of one of his choral ghosts, whom he was ready to slap until they pointed back at the library, the choral ghost having to lift their master’s jaw back up after it dropped to the floor in astonishment.
The library was spotless.
Lewis saw the maid leaving the room, darting away back to the spot where he’d been, trying to get his composure back by the time she spoke to him again, an attempt that was only partially successful as his tone slipped between casual and formal as he spoke:
“Hmmm…perhaps you can help get the portrait ghosts’ frames in line? They’re too lazy to do it themselves…if any of them try to hurt you or threaten you, you come back and tell me, got it?”
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