Maggie "Sugie" Rogers

“I could tell you something like ‘that’s what brothers are for and don’t worry about it’ but I’m never turning down free pizza so….deal.” Shaggy took a step forward and his foot got caught on something. He looked down to try and determine just what was on his shoe now. Was that….toilet paper? 

He lifted his leg to try and shake it loose, “Uh you know. Incidents.” Clicking his tongue, he tried to figure out the safest way to say this. “…Like anything really really reaaaaaalllllly bad?”

"Okay...you're either trying to ask if there was a supernatural attack or if I had sex with someone." And she was not entirely sure which of the two was more awkward. Cause for there to be a supernatural attack on her house party, she would have had to summon said creature. Which, for the record, she would never do. She liked her ghost hunting...but there were some lines it was just stupid to cross.

The other...well, did one ever want to talk about said things with their family.

Shaggy surveyed the wreckage of the room. When he said normal, he CLEARLY forgot what kinds of things it was that normal teens did. Yet another one to file in the how good would he actually be as a parent folder. 

Still as bad as it was, it could be worse. “Yeah, absolutely. Listen this is….like totally fixable. We’ve got this!” Aside from anything that had been broken of course. Their parents would probably notice any super glued vases.

He paused and turned to his sister unsure how exactly to word his next question, “Were there any other incidents?” 

Hey, while he might not yet be ready to be a father, he was killing it in the big brother department. As evident by the fact he was there, ready to save her from being grounded for all eternity.

And there might be a lamp that was now in pieces. But just a lamp. And one of the uglier ones too. No way their parents would miss it.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I totally owe you. I promise, next pizza night? On me.” And that was no small thing; not with how much pizza he, Scooby, and herself could put away.

“Wait, like can T-rexes not see walls?” That really wasn’t her point at all and he needed to focus and stop being distracted. The duo followed Sugie with reluctancy, their paranoia ran high as they checked behind them constantly to make sure a third party hadn’t joined in. Reaching a room she’d concluded was opened, Shaggy kept clear of the door and lowered his voice down to a whisper, “You sure it’s empty?”

“More like they only see movement; if you stay completely still, you’re practically invisible. Like in Jurassic Park, remember? Unfortunately, we have yet to find a monster that works on the same principle so you might need to rethink your whole ‘try to blend into the wall’ thing.” 

Scanning the room, she nodded in response to her brother’s question. “Looks like it’s just us.” And with any luck, it would stay that way. At least until they came up with a game plan. “Wonder where the others ended up...probably still downstairs somewhere.” Closer to the factory floor.

you’re a crazy bitch. okay? okay. now get those floating knives out of my face before i call the exorcist.

“Not exactly...” Opening the door further, she let her brother in -- extremely grateful that he had come when she called. It was the first time their parents had actually trusted her home alone for more than a night (despite her being over the age of 12) and well, if he didn’t help her out, it was going to be the last.

“I...uh...I kind of...okay, so in all those movies when the parents go out of town you throw a party. And I’ve never done anything like that and I thought I’d...I don’t know...take your advice and embrace the normal for once.” She could have taken this time to go break into some abandoned building. Or chase after a lake creature. But no. She had thrown a kegger. And destroyed their parents’ house.

As soon as the hands began to move, Shaggy yelped, leaping about a foot in the air; in the blink of an eye, he was cowering behind his sister, peering out from over her shoulder with chattering teeth. His whole body shook. “L-like, you weren’t kidding, were you?” So this 100% wasn’t a joke. Great.

He didn’t care what the others said - as far as he was concerned, salt was a condiment, not a shield. How could something so small and ordinary possibly protect them against whatever horrifying creature was inside that painting?! “So we can get murdered in our sleep instead?” She knew he didn’t trust things like salt and holy water. He just couldn’t wrap his head around it. “Here’s a plan. You text the others, and Scoob and I will pack a bag and move to the sunny south of France and eat our weight in cheese.” 

“Nope.” Why would she joke about that? It was way too important. And potentially dangerous. But she wasn’t really thinking about that. Her concentration was instead on the mystery behind the painting. And whether or not the movement of the hands would show on film. Because if she could get video...it would go a long way with furthering Coolsville Confidential’s agenda. Though she’d have to note that the video was submitted. Keep her identity a secret a little longer.

But that was an issue for another time.

Right now the main issue was the painting. And just who had cursed it and why. “We’re not going to get murdered in our sleep. I told you, I warded it.” He could call salt a condiment all he wanted, but that didn’t change the fact that it worked. And it did work. They all knew it.

Honesty

Also known as: Authenticity, Sincerity

Spiritual Archetype: The Priest/Priestess

Your primary spiritual gift is Honesty. You are a person who values truth and integrity above all else. At heart, you are a fair, trustworthy, and conscientious person. You are skilled at identifying any form of deceit, inauthenticity, or falsehood in everyday life.. This makes your spiritual gift extremely valuable but also feared. Use the gift of Honesty to guide your life decisions, and you will always make the wisest choices. Congratulations!

Tagged By: @likezoinksguys​

“couldn’t you have just called fred and velma? they live for this stuff! me, i’d rather be reading a recipe or something!” there’s that nervous laugh again, but can you blame him? he doesn’t like being in the gloomy, cowbebby attic, let alone being in the gloomy, cobewebby attic with a haunted painting.

still, he follows sugie, peering over her shoulder at the painting and following where her fingers pointed. okay, that was uber creepy. thanks a lot, little sis.

“i think i wanna get as far away from this creepy painting as possible. i think i could move country and it still wouldn’t be far enough! like, i don’t wanna sound like a broken record, but, again, why did you bring that thing here?!” 

“Don’t worry; I plan on texting them later. Daphne too.” For if this thing was the real deal, it was going to take all of them. Mysteries of this caliber usually did. “But you were here and I needed to show someone...mostly to make sure I wasn’t exaggerating so...here we are.”

And just to back up Sugie’s claim (cause that’s the way their lives worked), some of the hands began clawing at the window in the painting. Moving as if trying to get to the two children.

Bold all of the themes that apply to your muse’s aesthetic or mood as a character.

Bloodied knuckles | Tear stained cheeks | Rust | A busted lip | Claws | Fangs | A bloody nose | Chattering teeth | A dark space underneath the bed | Scratching noises on a wall | Creaking metal | Fog | Dancing under moonlight | Blood dripping lips | Heavy breathing in the dark | A feeling of unexplained dread | A figure in a dark corner |  Dirty peeling wallpaper | A bloody handprint on the wall | Sobbing in the dark | Bite marks on the skin | Eerie whispers | A hood covering a stranger’s eyes | The growl of a hidden animal | The sound of a blade being sharpened | A deep, dark forest | Walking on the streets alone at night | A cobweb-filled, abandoned building | Eyes darting in paranoia | A heavy beating pulse | The feeling of being trapped | Struggling to get out a scream | Boards covering broken windows | A quiet graveyard

A gas station in the middle of nowhere | A road that never ends | Heavy fog rolling in | The scent of blood in the air | Eerie old photographs | Walking along traintracks at night | A chill going up the spine | Gathering crows | A dusty, dimly lit study | Mist over a deserted cobblestone street | Ghost towns | Shadows around a campfire | The sound of chanting | Church bells tolling | An orange harvest moon | A broken down carnival | A dirty stuffed animal abandoned | Wiping bloody hands on fabric | Nightmares | Waking up in a panic | A power outage | Heavy lightning storms | A secret trap door | The feeling of being watched | Fear from trauma

A Ouija board set out on a table | An eerie doll | A scream of anguish and pain | Withered plants | A room that’s been forgotten and gathered dust  | Owl eyes in the dark | Curled, dead tree branches | A ritual altar | Flickering candles | A lantern held up in the dark | Fear of being followed | Creaking floorboards | Repressed, horrible memories | Clenched teeth | Soft, echoing piano keys | An old book covered in dust | Many pairs of glaring eyes | Stumbling in pitch black darkness | Being stranded in the middle of nowhere | Tarot cards on a table | A trail of blood

BONUS

Old Creepy Monkey Playing Cymbals Music Box | Chandeliers | Masks | Roses | Cape Game On Fleek | Seriously Good Masque of the Red Death Cosplay | Did I Mention Candles?

Tagged by: @scoobysnacked​