«The first time it felt wrong, which is good right? But now, it feels like winning.»

Jason Brody from Far Cry 3 - independent RP blog - sideblog to @asneakyrat​

«The first time it felt wrong, which is good right? But now, it feels like winning.»

Jason Brody from Far Cry 3 - independent RP blog - sideblog to @asneakyrat​

“no matter how gifted, you alone cannot change the world.” –L

“to change the world in a way that means anything takes more time than most people have. it’s slow. it’s methodical. it’s exhausting. we don’t all have the stomach for it.” –Elliot Alderson

“however dark and scary the world might be right now, there will be light.” –James Gordon

                                      “Is that pepperoni?”

Victor Zsasz (Gotham). About. Other Characters

Reblog if you're supposed to be dead...but Oops! Look who's back

“no matter how gifted, you alone cannot change the world.” –L

“to change the world in a way that means anything takes more time than most people have. it’s slow. it’s methodical. it’s exhausting. we don’t all have the stomach for it.” –Elliot Alderson

“however dark and scary the world might be right now, there will be light.” –James Gordon

conflagratin:

But never, in Andi’s experience, quite that much.

To say it was alarming would have been a bit of an understatement, and Andi jumped back from the table, hand pressed to their chest as if the pressure could calm their racing heart. “Mr. Bauer that was not a challenge.”

He was dead. Very much definitely dead, they were certain of it. A whole plethora of other people had been certain about it. And yet it seemed that the dear late Lars had not gotten that particular memo. Andi went back to their table, to fingers pressed to his throat to check for a pulse. It was there, but very faint.

Andi looked down, and blue eyes looked back up at them. “I say, it’s a bit late for that.” Though he did have a point. Perhaps it was best to take a seat, seeing as though the world had gotten a little fuzzy around the edges. Andi found a chair in the corner, fulling intending on dragging to back towards the table were the very much definitely alive Lars Bauer was resting. Their knees, however, had a different idea, and they plunked themselves down into the chair where it was.

“You’ll have to pardon me,” they said, pulling off their surgical gloves so they could run a hand through their hair. “But you’re not exactly behaving like a typical corpse.”

DAY 1

"I'm aware." Ever so slowly, Lars sits up, his head spinning and overheated, his mouth dry. He's going to be as good as new in a bit, old aches from long healed bones aside, but right now he feels every bit like a zombie.

He glances at the kid with squinting eyes. "You're taking it better then most." They don't look like they're going to faint anytime soon, they haven't run away screaming nor tried to put him back to sleep. Lars can imagine they have a lot of questions, lots for which he doesn't have an answer to.

"Can I have a glass of water?" His throat his painfully parched, his voice coming out rough and strained. "And something to wear, maybe." He also needs a smoke and a stiff drink, but that can wait until he's back on his feet.

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((Closed starter for @conflagratin ))

There was something odd about the body on Andi’s table.

That wasn’t particularly unusual, odd bodies. People died in all sorts of ways, lived in all sorts of ways too. But this body, the one belonging to the late Lars Bauer, was not quite what it should be.

Accidental death, according to Andi’s file. Bit of a messy one, too. Lots of things squished and bent around in ways that was generally best avoided. It would be a full night’s work on Andi’s part to put Mr. Bauer back together again.

Or rather, it should have been a full night’s work, but it appeared that Mr. Bauer was in excellent condition, all thing considered. There was no protruding bones or torn skin of any kind, and certainly nothing mangled beyond repair. No, there were just a few miscellaneous cuts here and there and the lingering scent of barbecue.

“I say, Mr. Bauer, are you sure you didn’t meet your end at a garden party? Undercooked hotdog, warm potato salad, that kind of thing?” Andi wrinkled their nose at the thought of spending their final moments in the hellscape that was suburbia. It’d be a truly horrendous way to go in their opinion, but regardless of how Mr. Bauer had died, Andi was committed to doing their utmost to make him look at peaceful rest.  

They began a closer inspection, picking up his arm first and noting the cuts they had seen before were almost completely superficial. His hand was also drooping at the wrist. Andi put his arm back down on the table and stood there with a puzzled frown on their face. He was awfully warm for a man who had spent the better part of the day in the refrigerator, and the usual rigour mortis was suspiciously lacking.

“Mr. Bauer,” they said, leaning over the table to contemplate the almost rosy complexion to his face. “I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think you’ve quite got the hang of being dead yet.”

DAY 1

He comes back to the feeling of being touched, watched. There's a voice somewhere too, sounding simultaneously close and far away but Lars doesn't have it in himself to try and make sense of what he's being told. Then it comes, the first wave of pure agony that always accompanies his resurrection, making his body burn up and his muscles spasm horribly. Lars can only curl on himself and will his aching lungs to do their job.

It takes a while for the pain to subside and for him to regain enough lucidity to become aware of his surroundings. He’s lying naked on a hard smooth surface, cold seeping in his bones, someone leaning over him. "Don't freak out," he croaks weakly, still too exhausted to do more than squint up at them, blinded by the light. "Sit down if you're going to pass out." It's not his first time waking up in a morgue, he has learned how to deal with the situation. More or less.

Shit People Have Said Sentence Starters:

Feel free to change pronouns as necessary! Special thanks to Mousie

Heyy people! 💖 I’m awfully sorry I’ve been gone for so long. I’ve been really caught up, job and costumes and illness eating away all of my time.

Things are slightly better now and I’ve been really missing RPing, so I’m officially back. However, I’ll be dropping all of my old thread (unless I have one with you that you really want to resume, in which case tag me and I’ll try to get to it ASAP). To avoid getting too overwhelmed again, I’m gonna be much more selective, only accepting one or two threads per character at a time.

My OCs (@asneakyeat, @conflagratin) are available, as for the canon characters @4l14s, I have updated my list to show which ones I’m currently up to play.

I’ve been missing you people and your great characters lots! 💋💋💋

My muse is alone at the bar, draining already a second glass of some drink. Send “Rough night?” to catch my muses attention.

Entertainment || Closed

Lars hesitates for a moment, considers his options. He could take the phone, dial 911 and pretend to talk to his colleagues or family. Then what, though? No way the kids wouldn’t check the number afterwards. He could actually call the troupe, pretend to do as he was told while dropping hints that he’s in danger. But how?

His eyes flicker to the door. It’s locked; one of the twins has the key, hard to remember which one when there’s nothing to help him tell them apart. Lars supposes he could fight them, he has no weapon but he’s trained. There’s two of them though. Back to his original plan, then (or whatever he has that’s close enough to one).

“Sure,” he finally concedes and reaches out for the phone, eyes fixed on the twin holding the hammer. “What’s the address, again?” Playing fool. He doubts they’d be stupid enough to actually tell him but it doesn’t hurt to try. He’s kind of improvising there, working with what he’s got. Every moments he spends at a safe distance from that hammer is to be considered a small victory.