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Silence. A beckoned familiarity amongst the ' demons and angels of liability ' . A simple slip and stretch of the muzzle’s material in vertical appraisals and depressions led her to ' believe the confirmation of the notebook’s woes ' . She flips the book’s scraped pages back towards herself, staring ' into the picture of the man once again ' . She was not familiar with this man, although she is ' familiar with the clothing of it, at least ' . Religious, but the source of said attire’s ' requirements may need to be more searched upon ' . Her eyes narrowed, the thought of the religious being prayed on rather than them doing the ' praying is something she barely recognized ' . Adding it on to her ' already perplexingly new curiosities ' .

“ …He must be very important to you. “ her eyes ' flicked up from the notebook ' , “ Children attend churches, or rather public rituals for religious purposes just because their parents take them. I see the same may have happened with you. “ the book was closed shut, the slamming of multiple crumpled, stained papers against each other ' echoing around the small room around them ' , “ Which means you’re lying to me. “

In a quick motion, she strips the killer’s mouth of the muzzle, a singular strap of its remaining string whipping mere inches from his mouth, leaving ' no harm outside of a warning ' ,

“ You want something from me. From us. I can tell by the look in your eyes. Optical Illusions are my speciality, and it seems to me you want more than killing another man for your so called “aesthetic”. If you wanted that man so badly, you would have gone after him instead of lurking around Mississippi to indulge in your so-called desires. “

Her eyes flickered against the dim light, her brows furrowing so close, a pair of the ' brown hairs could hold hands if applicable ' .

“ So tell me what’s so important about your recent victims that made you abandon your true adversary? What is a group of civilians to a man of a God? “

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𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊 is enough to make the young serial killer raise his head, the tar-black tresses looming over his wicked gaze like a dark veil. among the ever-twisting thoughts & memories, it's impossible for him not to recognize that particular drawing & its crude yet precise lines, the face of his target forever immortalized onto the yellowed pages. mi-reu-sshi, as she'd called him; a retired taoist & an old family friend, now destined to die by none other than their youngest offspring.

        envy feels no pity for him nor those who shall mourn.

mrs. saebom has promised him a heart by the end of this long journey, & he shall claw his way through it if he has to. after all, what are five old men worth to a lifetime worth of fulfillment? that's right. nothing. he will be whole again, he will taste the essence of life, even if he has to deal with this pesky butterfly first. ❝ . . . . . ❝ slowly shifting his dead eyes over, envy carves them deeply into her own, starry seas, & just for a split second something vile crosses his pale face. something that makes it look colder, harsher, sharper, as if a mask on a verge of cracking ── but surprisingly enough, it doesn't. the young serial killer merely stares at ms. harris like a beast locked within a cage, his long fangs scraping against the cold metal bar lodged between them.

hungry. always hungry. he silently swears that he will get her soon, but for now, envy merely nods his head, deciding to play along just as grandmother sweetly suggests, the whole confinement room now reverberating with the sound of her voice ── the hundreds of low, deep, man-like whispers, constantly stretching & lapping their incoherent words like melting audio tapes ── once more coaxing him back to patience. ❝ . . . . . . ❝ they both know that she will have no choice but to remove the muzzle soon enough.

#♢ T E L L YOU YOU’RE THE G R E A T E S T ♢ ---> 🔍 IN CHARACTER 🔎 #🌐 WORLD VIEW WORLD KNEW 🌐 → SURPRISING CIRCUMSTANCES #s-talking #GUESS WHO'S BACK! #but also guess who didn't listen to the old inspector's advice? #this detectiiive :D #also thank god she couldn't; she gets overly curious #especially when she just ripped a muzzle with her bare hands....yeah....

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so...we may be having a problem. I have attempted to draft the reply/ies I remembered needing to reply to, only to run into an error where "service is temporarily unavailable". This has been done with every link to a thread I attempted to click in to, even as I attempt to log in to this account the first few times. In order to resolve this, I may have to transfer Resse to yet another blog again so I may continue threads there. This may take a bit, and I plan on starting tomorrow since it's pretty late at night.

I apologize for the continued wait for Ms. Harris to return to this site's scene. It seems things have began to break during my absence from here.

If anyone has the same issue and would like to offer some advice, I don't mind hearing them!

Happy Holidays!

#screaming - crying - #the ONE time i had actual muse for her and this happens;

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coming here with a quick update that I, am in fact, getting myself together. A lot of things has happened between work and life, and its making it difficult to come back on here. And now that I have began my winter recess, I should be able to rehabilitate myself and come back on here, promptly.

#📙 W H E N I LOSE M Y S E L F 📙 ---> 🔎 OUT OF CHARACTER 🔍 #i wanna write resse again so badly #but i keep getting..STUCK. #just STUCK REALLY STUCK :'(

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@zetsuboblade requested a case

“ Aren’t you a lively one? “

Caramel fingers eagerly intertwined with one another, pretending to pull on gloves where in reality she ' folded the sleeves of her turtleneck past her wrists ' . Her curiosity makes her imagine the possibilities of this ' mysterious distortion she witnessed all those seconds ago ' .

“  You show signs of distortion relapse, in a way that gives you the ability that I am happy to know of. My my, do I have a lot of questions for you..  “

#♢ T E L L YOU YOU’RE THE G R E A T E S T ♢ ---> 🔍 IN CHARACTER 🔎 #♢I CAN MAKE A P R O M I S E ♢---> 🔍 CLOSED STARTER 🔎 #🧿 Emotional Savages from the Clavier 🧿 → LoR: Distortion Detective

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@chrysothron requested a case

Dark towering buildings are prone to hiding the darkest of conversations ' behind the backs of either future victims and future witnesses ' . Despite how new Ms. Harris was to the City itself, she felt at home, in a way where she can find and be used to the new oddities that appear within such a sight, especially the ' distortions that she does not need to utilize her ability for ' .

A singular night after her recent case, she decided to venture into these backstreets, exploring this specific portion to give herself time to ' think, to absorb more of what the City has to offer ' . Her current exploration, just like any other, is quiet for the most part, until she ' witnesses movement from within a corridor ' . Her booted heels froze against the cold ground, her eyes trailing over towards the corridor, reminiscing in the memories of the brown and tan flash that ' appeared a split second after her vision briefly skewed there ' . And for that, such as a cat would, she decided to walk down through the corridor, her eyes piercing towards the left side as if expecting to see a figure stand ' before her, hostile or not, when she turns the corner ' . A step was all it took for her to lean out the corridor, and glance over, her eyes immediately piercing towards the direction she ' assumed the individual would be waiting for her ' .

“ Oh hello there.. “

#♢ T E L L YOU YOU’RE THE G R E A T E S T ♢ ---> 🔍 IN CHARACTER 🔎 #♢I CAN MAKE A P R O M I S E ♢---> 🔍 CLOSED STARTER 🔎 #🧿 Emotional Savages from the Clavier 🧿 → LoR: Distortion Detective #chrysothron

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Once again I have been very busy with writing projects and other irl things. I really want to get things restarted down here, so how about this impromptu starter/plotting call?

Like or Reblog to be added to the list of starters to be written, and feel free to DM me either through the Tumblr IM or Discord(if you have me added here) if you want a specific plot!

#just realized i reblogged the wrong post when I say i would be working on starters #i meant to reblog this LMAO #♢ W E GROW IN N U M B E R S ♢ ---> 🔍 STARTER CALL 🔎 #♢ S O MANY SHADES OF G R E Y ♢ ---> 🔍 PLOTTING CALL 🔎

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So my writing morale has increased significantly throughout the month, and with that in mind, I have decided to add my carrd along with the link to my writing commissions onto the pinned post. These are available immediately but as usual, don’t like/reblog the pinned post. Just letting yall know its there!

#will be getting to these now after like.. a millenia #irl and mental troubles suck ASS #♢ W E GROW IN N U M B E R S ♢ ---> 🔍 STARTER CALL 🔎 #♢ S O MANY SHADES OF G R E Y ♢ ---> 🔍 PLOTTING CALL 🔎

[qucintly]

So my writing morale has increased significantly throughout the month, and with that in mind, I have decided to add my carrd along with the link to my writing commissions onto the pinned post. These are available immediately but as usual, don't like/reblog the pinned post. Just letting yall know its there!

#📙 W H E N I LOSE M Y S E L F 📙 ---> 🔎 OUT OF CHARACTER 🔍 #i have excitement that i am barely containing pls help me-

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MUSE LIKES / PREFERENCES

favorite fruit(s) : Strawberries, Mangoes, Apples, Plums

favorite activity(ies) :   Reading, Working, Drinking Tea, Interrogating

favorite flower(s) : Chamomile, Sunflowers, Chocolate Cosmos, Boat Orchids

favorite season(s) : Winter and Fall

favorite insect(s) : The Entirety of the Lepidoptera Class and Families Included

favorite animal(s) : Deer, Cats, Dogs, and Birds

favorite gem(s) : Amber, Moonstone, Tourmaline, and Jasper

favorite time of day : Morning and Evening

Tagged by: @s-talking

Tagging: You know what I'm gonna say... YOU!!

#dashboard meme tbt #today i learned resse likes too many things

[qucintly]

Once again I have been very busy with writing projects and other irl things. I really want to get things restarted down here, so how about this impromptu starter/plotting call?

Like or Reblog to be added to the list of starters to be written, and feel free to DM me either through the Tumblr IM or Discord(if you have me added here) if you want a specific plot!

#♢ W E GROW IN N U M B E R S ♢ ---> 🔍 STARTER CALL 🔎 #♢ S O MANY SHADES OF G R E Y ♢ ---> 🔍 PLOTTING CALL 🔎 #reblogging for the morning people!

[qucintly]

Once again I have been very busy with writing projects and other irl things. I really want to get things restarted down here, so how about this impromptu starter/plotting call?

Like or Reblog to be added to the list of starters to be written, and feel free to DM me either through the Tumblr IM or Discord(if you have me added here) if you want a specific plot!

#♢ W E GROW IN N U M B E R S ♢ ---> 🔍 STARTER CALL 🔎 #♢ S O MANY SHADES OF G R E Y ♢ ---> 🔍 PLOTTING CALL 🔎 #HERE I AM #ONCE AGAIN #FEELING LOST AND NOW IM-- #here.. #im here for real this time

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MORE RANDOM / USELESS MUSE FACTS

Did they believe in Santa?: Perhaps, at least for a little bit. It didn't take long for her to realize her parents were the ones giving her presents. Though was she mad about this revelation? No. Her parents just became nicknamed "Mr. and Mrs. Harris Claus" until her early adolescent years.

Were they a dinosaur or rock kid?: Both, given the cirucmstances in which she read multiple books as a child. Learning about the rock that killed the dinosaurs(metaphorically) mixed both interests together.

Bugs or slimy critters?:  What's the difference? They're both curious creatures that need to be learned. Both in knowledge and repelling.

Do they fidget? How?: Whenever she listens to something interesting, whether on the case or not, she makes a mental note of the situation by the obvious gesture of rubbing the bottom frame of her chin, side to side. This also occurs when she's thinking about something.

What were they frequently in trouble for as a child?: The "in trouble" portion didn't really involve being suspended from school, or rather, being grounded per say. This "in trouble" portion deals with her popularity in comparison to the rest of her elementary school. She would be standoffish, in a way that completely ignores bullies that would tell her how much of a "teacher's pet" she was. She ignores them to the point of getting in trouble with the most popular individuals in school, but is quickly resolved by said teachers defending her. Would that even count? I'm making it count.

What underwear do they like?: ...I abstain from answering this question.

Designs on clothing or no?: No. She wants her clothes to be plain and singular colored. The striped pants she wears is an exception due to the colors black and grey being shades of each other.

Birthmarks?: There is a small black birthmark on the bottom right side of her neck, shaped like a star. This indicates either her past self was shot in the back by an arrow (as a cause of death), or is a symbol of the rebirth Ms. Harris would have gone through during the "Burn Within" incident.

Do they have good self control?: Depending on her level of anger, Ms. Harris has pretty good self control. Though it is highly recommended to not get on her bad side. Her vocal and physical inflictions of violence is a certain if or whenever she reaches that point.

Favorite franchise?: As a child, Resse would indulge herself reading the "Magic Treehouse" book franchise, which involves two growing children, Jack and Annie, entering a magical treehouse and traveling through time and events on mystical adventures. She experiences the children growing up such as she has, despite her memory of the books she read in long past disappearing along with the rest of her memories.

Do they re-enact scenarios in the shower?: Resse is a "get-in and get-out" type of individual. Someone who gets in the shower, does all she needs to do, and get out. There are no thoughts in between.

Do they tell the waiter that their order is wrong?: Sometimes she does, depending on how wrong the order was. If she were to get a regular cheesecake instead of the strawberry cheesecake she had orders, she would let it pass, considering the strawberry to be a bonus of flavor to the already rich taste of the cheesecake on its own. If she were to get a cup of chai tea instead of a cup of chamomile tea, that is where it kindly crosses the line.

Stairs or elevator?: Stairs. Walking up and down the stairs towards her destination gives her more time to think, to process or come up with details she would utilize in future situations and conversations. Although if a building only has elevators, she wouldn't mind taking them.

Are they an exaggerator when telling stories?:  Extremely. Especially when it comes to childish folktales like "The Three Little Pigs". Depending on who she tells it too, she rather twist the ending of the folktale to brutally antagonize, well, the antagonist(s), making sure the ones involved understand just what kind of trouble they are putting themselves through.

Tagged by: @s-talking

Tagging: YOU. When you read this!!

#dashboard meme tbt #like how im never gonna properly tag this;; #anyway: these were fun questions! #helps me get the resse muse again cause.. oh god my other oc..

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what's your wholsumvalues?

tagged by: @goldenbovgh

tagging: YOU (if you haven't RECENTLY).

#dashboard meme tbt #♢YOU SEE STILL I WANT TO BE HONEST ♢ ---> 🔍 MS. HARRIS HEADCANONS 🔎 #the extremely generous portion is on thin ice

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s-talking·: 

𝐌𝐒. 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐒’ 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐉𝐔𝐌𝐏 𝐀𝐒 𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐈𝐌,     the  hooded  eyes  becoming  as  wide  as  dinner  plates  for  a  few  heartbeats.��  ❝     i…  ──     ❞   it  is  clear  he  hadn’t  expected  that  kind  of  reply.  keith  however  recomposes,  visibly  schooling  own  bewildered  expression  before  giving  a  very  small  nod.   ❝     of  course,  ms.  harris.     ❞   quickly  grabbing  a  warn-out  notebook  from  the  glass  top,  he  once  again  sets  off  for  the  doorway  but  just  like  any  old-fashioned  gentleman,  he’d  open  the  door  for  her  first,   closely  resembling  a  templar  knight.  it’s  a  polite  gesture,  a  habitual  gesture,  established  long  ago  by  personal  principles   &   social  ques.   ❝     if  you  don’t  mind,  allow  me  to  share  a  few  things  as  we  walk…     ❞

closing  the  creaky  door  behind  them,  the  old  inspector  begins  to  slowly  guide  her  through  a  long  passageway  flanked  by  bustling  offices  filled  with  busy  policemen,  as  well  as  an  extensive  row  of  windows  down  the  ceiling.  if  ms.  harris  happens  to  look,  she’d  only  see  the  dark  sky   &   the  curtains  of  rain  licking  at  façades,  casting  a  rather  dismal  atmosphere  through  the  wavering  glass  as  though  the  whole  building  is  submerged  under  a  waterfall.  keith  sighs  gently  in  that  passing  moment,  although  his  expression  is  one  of  pure   determination   &   focus   than  hopelessness  or  dismay,   ❝     al-right,  let  us  skip  straight  to  the  point,     ❞   he  grumbles,  nonchalantly  fixing  own  tie;     ❝     that  particular  file  you’ve  read  was  merely  an   introduction   to  our  suspect,  like  an  opening  chapter,  if  you  will.  we  have  absolutely  nothing  on  him  other  than  the  couple  of  murders,  testimonies,   &   some  scattered  records  from  the  new  eden,  as  the  rest  was  burned  down  by  fire.  a  fire  that  he  must  have  started  in  order  to  escape,  but  also  to  hide  something  only   they   could  have  known.     ❞

turning  around  the  corner,  keith  stops  just  by  an  elevator   &   looks  up  at  its  digital  counter,   ❝     three-thousand  staff  members   &   eight-thousand  patients,     ❞   he  says,   ❝     all  of  which  are  now   dead.     ❞   not  once  looking  away  from  the  shifting  numbers,  the  old  inspector  suddenly  scoffs  at  his  own  words.   ❝     it’s  rather  strange,  wouldn’t  you  say?  that  sanatorium  was  infinitely  bigger  than  this  building   &   yet  he,  alone,  is  the  sole  survivor.  it  just  doesn’t  make  any  sense,  does  it?     ❞   he  shakes  his  head,  the  counter  above  shifting  from  twelve  to  thirteen,   ❝     neither  we  or  the  fire  department  received  a  single  phone  call  until  the  horizon  was  boiling  red  with  flames…     ❞

        DING!

gently  stepping  aside,  keith  allows  for  a  pair  of  officers  in  black  suits  to  pass  by   &   exchanging  polite  nods  in  greeting,  takes  a  step  inside  the  elevator  where  the  walls  inside  are  all  metallic   &   the  air  scents  of  rain   &   cigarettes.  he  reaches  over  to  the  control  panel  once  she  is  fully  settled,  only  to  continue  on,  slowly,  folding  both  arms  behind  own  back  just  as  he  does.   ❝     it  took  us  months  to  search  everything,  ms.  harris.  we  have  turned  over  every  charcoaled  brick,  stone,  bone,   &   wood,  but  we  have  found  absolutely  nothing  besides  a  landscape  full  of  death.  not  even  a  single  clue  as  to  how  he  had  done  it,  whether  he  was  truly  alone,  or  who   ‘  envy  ’   actually  is…   but  you  already  know  that  part.  i  know.     ❞   slowly  turning  in  place,  keith  looks  directly  at  the  young  woman,  as  do  all  of  his  blurry  reflections.

they  appear  to  be   smiling   until  she   blinks.   ❝     the  reason  why  i  bring  this  up  again  is  because  i  trust  your  judgement   &   while  i  cannot  connect  certain  dots,  perhaps  you  may.     ❞   the  elevator  gradually  stops   &   the  doors  part,  pouring  in  a  wall  of  cold  air  that  makes  the  inspector’s  coat  flatter.  he  reaches  out  to  her  in  that  moment,  handing  over  the  warn-out  notebook.   ❝     this  was  once  his,     ❞   he  informs,  looking  ms.  harris  directly  in  the eye;     ❝     i  have  found  it  long  ago  in  his  old  home,  where  he’d  killed   &   devoured  them  all  as  a  mere  child   ──   where  the  rumors  of   the  little  killer   begun.     ❞   letting  go  of  the  leather  spine,  allowing  for  her  to  take  it,  keith  slowly  exits  the  elevator   &   enters  into  a  corridor  of  pure  concrete  stone,  no  plants,  no  pictures  or  paintings  to  be  spotted  unlike  on  every  other  level.   ❝     speaking  of  trust  m’am,     ❞   he  briefly  glances  over  the  shoulder,   ❝     i  trust  that  you  won’t  remove  his  muzzle  after  that   unfortunate   introduction.     ❞

finally  approaching  the  very  last  door,  the  old  inspector  turns  fully  towards  her   &   with  a  keycard  pressing  against  the  reader,  offers  a  terribly  brief  smile,  almost  like  a  worried  father  would  when  looking  out  for  his  beloved  daughter.   ❝     feel  free  to  take  your  time  before  going  in.  i  will  be  back  in  an  hour   &   if  anything  happens,  i  will  be  sure  to  see  it  through  the  camera  so  you  don’t  have  to   worry.   good  luck.     ❞   &  with  that  keith  slowly  departs,  leaving  just  ms.  harris   &   the  leather  book.  if  she  happens  to  investigate  it,  she  will  see  a  series  of  child-like  drawings,  many  of  which  are  drawn  either  with  a  black  or  red  crayon,   &   sometimes  both.  they  are  all  depicting  scenes  of  a  small  stick  figure  along  one  that’s  much,  much  taller,   &   horrifically  crooked,  just  like  a  sick  willow  tree.  the  two  figures  are  strangely  smiling  on  every  page,  even  when  standing  near  harsh  scribbles  of  what  looks  like  mutilated  bodies  doused  in  blood.  some  of  those  pages  appear  to  be  punctured  with  a  pencil  or  completely  scratched  out  over  the  areas  where  the  eyes  should  be,  leaving  a  series  of  deep  holes  throughout  the  notebook.

what  really  stands  out  though  is  the  very  last  drawing,  it  is  a  picture  of  an  old  man  dressed  in  a  traditional  taoist  robe   &   a  heungnip   ──   clearly  drawn  by a  teenager  than  a  small  child   ──   but  unlike  every  other  page,  this  one  has  words  written  just  beneath   &   they  clearly  say  only  one  thing;     𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋  𝐇𝐈𝐌.

Listened she did, even through exiting the room, as her heels reclaimed the floor with each step, her hand still remaining in her pocket, another strictly by her the side facing the window, her brown and star-like pupil trailing from the eyes of the chief, to the lips of the chief, switching consistently to ' find a new understanding of the current convict ' . The couple murders along with the recent kidnapping became to be ' known as smaller instances of the boy's crimes ' . An act of child's play in ' comparison to the adult party of his inner world ' . An accumulated amount of 11,000 victims died within a single night by the ' hands of the boy who survived his own fire ' . Despite how opposite the morals of surviving the incident were to the two of them, Ms. Harris could not ' help but to feel related to him ' .

The harsh yet audible chime of the elevator briefly distracted the detective from her thoughts, even as the images of charcoal, bone, stone and wood replicates in the detective’s mind, shining or dulling against the still elevator lighting despite the patterning changing numbers of the floor’s location ' above the doors now in front of them ' . Her hues focused solely on the metallic long slit ' beckoning its ability to open the doors back wide ' . The darkest of minds would imagine so, frail yet tender fingers breaching through the cracks, bracing for ' mutilation of either flesh or metal ' . Smiling faces surround her vision, yet failed to gain her attention until the last split second, a quick turn of her ' head back towards the chief, disappearing from sight ' .

Another chime from the elevator allowed the doors to safely open, to ' reveal the cold underground hall that welcomes them to some sort of domain ' . The cold air that would pass through the abdomen of Ms. Harris if not ' for the small rectangular presence that is held before her ' . She tilts her head down towards the presence to see a leather notebook being ' gestured towards her, beckoning her to take it ' . She does so, yet moves on with the chief before the elevator doors ' become beckoned to trap them again ' . Every step felt familiar, yet the ' book she holds in her hands does not ' . Tempted to open, yet listened on to Mr. Crawford, gaining advice that would perpetually fall to the back of her mind, her own ' methods overcrowding with thoughts of him ' . No word had returned to chief, for her focus was merely on the ' overwhelming details in her mind ' . Her silence eery to the jitterest of individuals, even so as she was ' now fully alone..patiently plotting ' . Because a woman of protruding yet controlled emotions allows Ms. Harris to endure the ' chaos that is the inner cloudy mind of violent individuals ' . Especially considering the various autonomies of her previous suspects and convicts have only been an ' introduction to what the darkening mind can possess ' . And that is what led to Ms. Harris ' opened up the journal of the little killer ' . Her eyes glued to the various drawings that litter every page, filled with ' thoughts unlike any other criminal she faced ' . Stick figures would usually be giggled at when sighted by adults, however the crooked tree of a figure to the right of who she ' presumed was stick figure Envy attracted her attention ' . A punctured hole ' gave her signs of frustration ' . As if the body that used to be visible on such a ' page was another mere target for decimation ' . But, it merely does not compare to the detailed ' drawing on the final page of this little story ' .

Head to toe dressed in religious or rather philosophical clothing, old in age yet young within the presence of ink, at least in ' comparison to the rest of the journal ' . Standing still being his only purpose, unknown to the words he ' stood upon that aim to bring his fate into fruition ' .

KILL HIM.   It says. Whether this old man was already naturally ' dead or despicably murdered is up for debate ' . Which leads to a tilt of her head up towards the ' unlocked, somewhat abandoned door ' . Her suspect ' remains chained and muzzled beyond this door ' . It feels somewhat impossible to ' obtain answers with the chief’s recent advice ' .

Creeaaak..   The squeaky door opens wide, giving view of the inner ' room like world of Envy’s presumed maximum security prison ' . The dim null grey walls soiled with bumps and bruises, ' giving reminiscence of prisoners of long past ' . Echoey repeated sounds of footsteps enter the room, before the creaking door shuts with caramel hands gently ' pressing amongst the door’s abdomen, closing, fully, yet not tightly ' .

A pole is wrapped by metal handcuffs closest to the wall, such as ' uncomfortable as the sight of the (self)injured wrists that returned to their prison ' . Alone the two were, one kneeling another ' standing, far in distance, anxious but curious ' . But amongst the silence, in the ' quantity of mere seconds, her demeanor changes ' .

“  My oh my… you had me worried for a minute there.  “ With no chair to compensate for the atmosphere, she leans herself against the wall, tilting her head to the side. “  It seems to us we may have started on the wrong page..the wrong pace. It was wrong of me to assume you were more human than any other criminal I have faced. I apologize.  “

The small journal is held against her vertical lap, the hand with blood still clinging to it smearing the wet remains on the ' back cover, careful to not stain the page behind it ' .

“ But..I still believe you are at least human enough to make your own decisions. Your juvenile independence just so happens to be the remaining humanity you still haven't rid of. Speaking of so.. “ Her eyes narrowed down towards the muzzle, “ You seem to eager to wring another’s neck up and down, left and right, it would make sense for you to be able to nod or shake your head. “ A sudden flick of her hand flips the book upwards, opening to the page of the old man with an old phrase. “ Tell me, Is this man the last thing you'll have to rid of in order to escape your humanity? Yes or No. "

#♢ T E L L YOU YOU’RE THE G R E A T E S T ♢ ---> 🔍 IN CHARACTER 🔎 #🌐 WORLD VIEW WORLD KNEW 🌐 → SURPRISING CIRCUMSTANCES #s-talking #oh my god thank you??? #i remember peaking at that moment when writing ms. harris but honestly?? #*grips your shoulders* #YOU contributed to this thread so much its almost scary /hj #like LOOK HOW MUCH YOU WROTE #when envy is off screen you come up with this masterpiece #when envy is on screen YOU COME UP WITH THIS MASTERPIECE it's literally insane #but also she'll try her best!! #but i have a strange feeling she'll have to protect herself too.. right... #but also also.......im sorry this reply is so long oh my god;;;

[qucintly]

does anyone know of any format generator that works like this? It had a little textbox and had a copy/paste html in the bottom to, well, copy and paste my writing to the html editor(through the settings on the top right). Cause the one I linked suddenly doesn’t work anymore??

Though if yall have any advice when it comes to the formatting replies outside of the weird editor tumblr has going on right now, that would also be nice!

#📙 W H E N I LOSE M Y S E L F 📙 ---> 🔎 OUT OF CHARACTER 🔍 #my fav writing engine is gone help- #tbd later.. maybe-

[qucintly]

I want to apologize (again) for my inactivity as of very recently. Once again I started a new job, and I am actually loving this one and am dedicating more focus and time into preparing for the next day and the next day. Good thing this job requires me to be here for only five days a week, so on weekends, I'll have all the free time to get to replying. I'll try to get to replying during my breaks and lunch throughout the day as I get used to my new schedule.

I also really want to say how much I appreciate all my mutuals for sticking around through my shaky schedule changes. I want to be as active as I can, and there are just some things that prevent me from doing so. I'll try my best to get back on track!

#📙 W H E N I LOSE M Y S E L F 📙 ---> 🔎 OUT OF CHARACTER 🔍 #i know i technically only have one reply to do #but i wanna try to get more interactions on here so feel free to reach out to me!

[qucintly]

Hi there! Do you like squids? Or perhaps a humanoid squid called an Inkling? Or a humanoid squid that was made to be an Inkling? Or a humanoid squid that was made to be an Inkling that was destined to replace her older sister in order to reset the world to the order that the Kamabo Incorporation desired for the past, what, two-three years?

Well, if you do, then feel free to check out this selective. independent(with a small collab) and possibly canon divergent Splatoon OC based on the realizations of the Kamabo Incorporation! She comes in most shapes and sizes. As an Inkling, as a human, not a kid, as a malicious force of nature, as a killer, as someone you get to know about!

Feel free to hit a follow, a slam a DM, and maybe she'll consider talking to ya.

Just don't piss her off, mkay?

#📙 I NEVER HOLD B A C K 📙 ---> 🔎 SELF PROMO 🔍 #hewwo again :D