How Sweet The Sound, When You Burn Out,

How sweet the sound, when you burn out,

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLet's get this straight:

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤThe world is GRAY.

indie. sel. multi-muse. ft. ORIGINAL, DBD, and SLASHER muses.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤpuppeteered by BROZI (he/they 30)

AFFLILIATED WITH— @ferociium, @leadxxr, @breakdcwn, @gamenu, @fiorserpen, @historias-multorum

aurora's "exist for love" is truly such an aggie song

as much as agatha adores animals, how could she not want to do volunteer work in the local animal shelter in her spare time? just interacting with the adorable creatures was payment enough, so specific times were set up where she could come in and help out. the faerie hums to herself as she parks her car and heads in, heading back toward where she saw a list of things she can do waiting for her. okay, that seems easy enough!

agatha gets to work, glancing up after a while when she hears someone speaking. not just that, but... reciting poetry? she knew she wouldn't be alone here or anything, even that the veterinarian was supposed to drop by to check on the animals, so maybe that was him. agatha sets aside the broom and dustpan and heads over to investigate, seeing the man reading to the animals in their cages. she can't help but smile, leaning against the wall. she doesn't want to disturb or break his concentration, so she just stands there and listens.

@qvartzdied

gods, oh, gods. why her? why this? why could it get worse? all agatha had wanted to do was go home. she just wanted to relax, to spend time with her pets. not— not whatever this is! this is a nightmare, right? it has to be. surely it must be. maybe she dozed off on the couch in the back of the shop? and this is just one terrible nightmare, one extreme situation that only agatha could dream up. and yet... no matter how much she wishes it, this isn't a dream. this is real.

the pain that hits her from just about all sides from the force of his body and the impact of hitting the wall, that's real. a pained cry leaves agatha and hot tears prick her eyes. she reaches out for something, anything to cling to to keep her legs from giving out, finding purchase on his shirt, frantically grasping it. with a body able to heal itself inhumanly fast, she recovers somewhat quickly from the impact, though she's dazed from her head hitting the wall pressing painfully against her back. she just— she has to get away. she has to get somewhere safe. " p-p-please, i-i didn't— i'm sorry, p-please d-don't hurt me, i-i w-won't tell anyone w-what i saw— "

   it's  simple  predator  instincts  that  kick  in.  when  the  prey flees  -  the  predator  gives chase.  muscles  tense,  and  he's  off  like  a  shot  in  moments. far  too  fucking  fast.  not  many  creatures  push  the  speeds  he  gets  to  -  and  he  doesn't  break  a  god  damn  sweat.  he's  not  contained  like  he  should  be.  slipped  the  restraints,  left  to  wander  free.  a  trained  weapon;  without  a  commander  behind  him  to  pull  the  chain  back  and  choke  him  away  from  baser  instincts. 

   instincts  he  answers  to,  catching  up  to  the  woman  with  ease,  and  crashing  into  her  with  his  full  body  weight.  it's  a  side  tackle  -  aiming  to  slam  her  hard  between  him  and  the  wall  of  the  nearby  building.  a  blow  that  could  end  up  devastating  -  not  that  he  cares  enough  to  see  to  it  he  pulls  the  punches.  everything's  a  haze  -  he  can  hear  his  heart  thudding  in  his  ears,  he  can  hear  the  way  hers  erratically  beats  in  terror  -  it's  all  fueling  him.  the  world  drowns  out  -  and  those beats  are  all  he  hones  in  on. predator  and  prey.

the way it's tempting to use soryn's old fc as an alt fc

"Why are ya so short?"

" wha— i-i'm not short! i'm five foot six, that— that's above the average height for a woman! " she does still have trouble reaching the top shelves of her kitchen cabinets and her bookshelves, though, so there's that. agatha pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. " i'm not short. "