s ᴀ ᴠ ᴇ　 ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴍ.

♫♪♬ ; i’m back and ready to do replies!! but i also wanna drum up more threads here on the Puppet! so let this double as an rp ad-- 

And what a familiar sound it was!

“H̜̫͚̳̯̦h̖̫̮͉e̝̞͙̲͓̭̖EH̦E̟H͖̝͙͈͖eH͈͕̰̥̱e̟̘̥.̱̜.̞.̪̼̙̪͙̤̹”̖͉̼

The marionette, the enigmatic phantom that had given the boy and his friends all that they had, was in the most subtle terms a mystery. He’d always regarded the puppet with a strange sense of wonder, though perhaps that curiosity was tinged with uncertainty. Any faded trepidation aside, he could only believe that anybody who would go to such lengths to bestow upon him his second chance, however broken that chance, was a friend.

Foxy turned his head to greet the puppet with his unevenly lidded eyes and my, if the captain had been blessed with the mechanical advances to properly replicate a smile, he surely would have.

“YARRRRR-HAR-HARR! THA-THA-THAR YE BE, YE OL’ SCALLYWAG!”

ℎℯ  rℯღℯღЪℯrℯ∂  ίη  ℘ίℯςℯş: a twist of his wrist and he had cast those terrors into the dark where they’d no longer haunt his waking hours. static set into the reminiscence, rendering them unintelligible echoes of a life no longer his own. he was i̖̼̰̬t̢̩̼̤ now; a creature given purpose by the things that lurk the dark. all it knew was agony, and revenge for the sake of the young felled by an unfair hand.

it only wanted their happiness, and the path to its realisation wasn’t without blood. they must erase the source of their anguish, and their p a i n.

to know a friend shared in this dilemma fostered despair-- but not to fear: jℴϒ was its trade!

Send me ✔ and I will bold my preferences for your muse!

My muse(s): The Puppet

Do I know your muse(s): yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

Setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other

Pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

Possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies ( a lot of potential, considering the Puppet is a vengeful spirit... ) | protecter - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other - I suppose the Puppet plays to the whole “clown” aesthetic, and it’s very possible to be mistaken for something inanimate…

I’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other

ίℸ  ςℴμℓ∂η’ℸ  ş℘ℯαķ its relief, for this form of gears and plastic could bring forth none. it wasn’t gifted with speech as the others were, a silent tool for another’s happiness, nothing more than the chime it produced or the simper carved into its design. beads of light pierced the seeming nothing that filled its gleefully fashioned gaze, just a flicker-- but not of sinister intent, more of acknowledgment that it was met with one more friend. rust and rot settled amongst its circuitry, marring the steel and patches of naked endoskeleton where disrepair had claimed it. 

they were all shadows, nothing but misery to guide these hollow things; the fruits of its endeavour to give life. it rewarded their untimely ends with purpose so that they may rest with the fall of that curtain. but the show hadn’t reached its end.

                                                                  n̶͉̳̣o̵̘̲̜t̵̳̺͈ y̴̤̬̮̩̩̗ḙ̵̦̼͇̣͔t̴̨͚̝͉̘̝.

ίℸş  ςℎℴşℯη  ℓℴ∂ℊίηℊş had freed it of the din and industry plaguing the outdoors, as becoming of this sector, a more muted scene to better fit its workings. it quivered, halted just inside the door-- it was a restaurant, dead any activity. the lights sputtered their dying breaths overhead, before finally giving out, the dark at last swallowing the vicinity once and for all. 

how strange it should be drawn to a horror it had known for the years preceding now. broken memories whispered of the transgressions now driving it to action, like a record skipping over and over again they played. at this, it twitched, an arbitrary cant of its head and a jingle to garnish, before it proceeded behind the counter, music box cradled in its hands. the creak at its back prompted it to drop immediately with a clatter, the box tumbling from its grasp and landing on its rear, lid thrown open.

ίℸ  ∂rίƒℸş, but not seamlessly as stutters did rib its movement; disruptions like a spasm, rattling balled joints as it breezed past the thick brush and greenery enclosing it. bells at the core of its construct chimed, needing less than a twitch to titter. at one moment, it crumpled to the ground in a heaped clatter alongside the trinket it toted, dead as its namesake severed from its paddle-- before rising, limb by limb, as if beckoned by renewed strings. the thing pressed on----

                                                           ---until it was completely stilled by the familiarity ahead.

it was only momentary, before its advance resumed into the clearing. a jingle announced its arrival, and furthermore in absence of words, it presented the box, lid raised, mournfully knelling its song. teeth struck tin in an artfully set manner, in which the thing found its solace.

♫♪♬ ; here we are again.... like this post for a starter! capping at three for now!