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@outofthiisworld
✦˖° an indie RP multimuse that used to just be two ocs, but now has a bigger roster! this is my little, low maintenance corner that's subjected to whatever i think is neat.
👾 written by boo | 29 | she/they
👾 selective & mutuals only. au & oc friendly!
👾 sporadic activity
👾 content warnings: general violence, gore, body horror, medical & scientific malpractice, discussion of trauma & mental illness, memory loss, my whims. minors dni
CARRD | TAGS | MEMES
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✦˖° @punchedharder: ❝ What kind of creature has teeth like these? ❞ for Doc.
ᯓ🧪˖° “Well. Based on my very in-depth, 5-minute research using a popular search engine: crabeater seals!” Thank god Doc is wearing gloves, cause he shoves his fingers into the critter’s mouth to show off those strange teeth.
“Check it out. They got these interlocking sieves that help it hunt and feed on Antarctic krill. Fascinating. It almost looks like they were manmade, given how they curve like that. Y’see?”
Wow! This Crabeater seal sure is pretty docile (for a wild animal).
“Anyway. It’s weird that it’s a crabeater seal,” he finally takes his hand out of the poor thing’s mouth and he shrugs. Hands now on his hips. “‘Cause we’re in New York and, last I checked, not Antarctica.”
The ‘crabeater seal’ suddenly hurls up a strange goo and begins to glow.
“ Hm … They also shouldn’t do that.”
ᯓ🔩˖°// i'm reminded philippe has a klefki and i have never felt more vindicated for my headcanon that he really, really loves cute things. thats his booboo keys !!! who has too many master keys for too many buildings around lumiose. don't worry 'bout it.
@outofthiisworld // starter call
There's an unfamiliar backpack sticking out from under his passenger set, and a human shaped lump hiding under the tarp of his pick up truck. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out someone is trying to hitch a ride. He's not a fan of the sneakiness, he'd rather they just ask. But he gets it. Most sane people don't accepted hitchhikers. "The cab is much more comfortable," he shouts to the lump in the bed of his truck, "I don't bite. I might even share my chips with you if you come out"
ᯓ🧸˖° Fuck. The incriminatingly human-shaped lump freezes. Darlynne coulda’ swore she was safe to shuffle about for a sec (and relieve that ache in her ass)! Yeah, yeah, sure—she also coulda’ flown, but can’t a lady catch some shut-eye and be on the move, too?
“That sounds like somethin’ someone who bites would say.” The lump still didn’t move … but … it did follow up with a very important question, a southern accent heavy on her drawl: “ ... What kinda chips?”
Miss Darlynne! What is your opinion on love? And do you believe in love on the first sight?
ᯓ🧸˖° “Love’s in everythin’, baby.” Darlynne can’t help but laugh a lil’, not out of any malice, no, no, more like how a mother laughs at her kid. Soft and gentle with a touch of teasin’.
“People get to thinkin’ that the only love out there is for sweethearts, but that’s only one slice of the pie. It’s in the way you walk and the way you talk … when yer’ pup waits by the door, or how a bud sees you in places when you ain’t around and in the food that takes ya’ right back home.”
Her ma’ always did say Darlynne had a big heart (and Lovebug would agree).
“I fall in love with strangers all the time. But I’m guessin’ that ain’t what yer’ askin’ though, huh?”
She shrugs, “I dunno,” and it’s as simple as that. “Love’s tricky, ain’t it?.”
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ᯓ🐦⬛🔩˖°// [voice of a girl who was totally not procrastinating on spring summer cleaning] i wanted to experiment with a different iconing style of The Fellas™️ but man ............ i just cant give up these ufos ............... !!!
✦˖° @lofirp: 💥 "Is there a reason why you're sneaking around here?" Arms crossed, Carver eyes Ophelia sternly. But there is something else glinting in these eyes. Mischief? After all, it is Isaac's room and technically they both shouldn't be here...
ᯓ💜˖° Any other person would have jumped at getting caught. Good thing Ophelia wasn’t technically a person now, was she? She giggles and doesn’t relent her nosing around—even under Carver’s ‘stern’ gaze.
“Maybe,” she hums and shrugs while rummaging around in Isaac’s drawers. Whatever Ophelia was looking for, be it purposeful or out of boredom, she didn’t find it. Her hip shuts the drawer and she twirls back around to face Carver head on.
“What are yooooou doing here, hm?” Her smile curves devilishly so and eyes narrow. “Were you hoping to find Isaac all alone?”
✦˖° @schattenmagier: " Ohhhhh bunny-boy~ " Oh no. Rabbot be careful because here comes Schatten with a voice that promised that she is here to tease him. " I saw you can open your helmet a little~ "Ah, so that's why she's here... wait." Vill you open it for me pleaseeee~? I have a sweet little surprise just for you~ Nothing bad! I promise~♥ "What is she implying??
ᯓ🐰˖° “Ooh no! Nuh-uh!!! No way!!!” Rabbot shrieked and hopped back, making a point to slap both hands over his still-shut-tight mouthguard of his helmet. For extra protection, y’see. “I ain’t fallin’ for that one! Peekaboo already got me once with that trick!!!”
Then, he whined out a small, “I’m still flossing the glitter outta my teeth …”
NEVERMIND ALL THAT!
Being the prey animal his super-shtick was based off of: Rabbot was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. No matter how daft, how oblivious, or how gullible he was—that super sweet voice was nothing but trouble and even he knew that!
… Right? … Yeah, totally … but … the promise of something sweet made his mind race at superspeed. What was it? Maybe it’s food. It sounded like food. Gloved hands still covered his helmet’s mouthguard, but his curiosity (and his stomach) got the better of him.
“What. What kind of, uh, sweet? Like, cookies …?”
ᯓ🧸˖°// Despite having the alias of Heartache, Darlynne ain’t too concerned about the concept of a secret identity for herself. If anything—she can be too relaxed about it.
It’s not like she has a home to go back to or anyone to protect. The rules are different out in space, anyway. Not much of a paparazzi in the outer beyond (and if there is, they aren’t concerned about some aimless drifter amidst many more).
Heartache is more a name she gives people when she doesn’t want to give out her real name for whatever reason, and while I’m not too sure of where it came from just yet, I like to imagine it’s a name given to her by someone else.
"Ah!" Those banded feelers of his perked up immediately. Finally! Someone else who recognised the creation of creatures to terrorise the general public with for the artform that it is.
"Why yes! Yes, I am," Triton answered. "In a sense."
"And yes I would like to have a look," he continued. "Please."
Oh, so now he's polite.
ᯓ🧸˖° “In a sense?” Darlynne hummed out a huff. “Hey now, ain’t nothin’ wrong with being’ a lil’ big for yer’ britches here and there.”
No, no, Triton very well should be more humble—but Darlynne don’t know that yet. Oh well. She whipped out her phone and scrolled through photos (passing by a few others far too fast).
Ah, there we go!!!
Wherever she took these, the ‘grass’ was opalite in hue and three moons took up the horizon line. These critters were behemoths, almost appearing like bovines with hooves as sturdy as their curved horns, but their faces? They split into prehensile tendrils that tore up the fields of grass with numerous incisors. Six legs, too. Hard to unsee that.
“Lookie here!!!” Darlynne laughed and tilted the phone closer to Triton’s … general direction. She ain’t about to ask another alien where his eyes were at (not after last time). “Their butts look like their faces! Cute fuckers, I’ll tell you what.”
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"I'm going to start taking suggestions for creatures if they don't stop rushing me."
"Does the general public want any particular beast? No?"
ᯓ🧸˖° “You an artist or somethin’?” Well, ain’t Darlynne a nosey lil’ busybody! Always stickin’ her nose in other people’s business and weedin’ other gardens (but in her defense—it was a question for the general public this time).
Whatever this is for, she’ll add in her two cents with some good ol’ gumption: “I got pics of alien livestock far out off the outer rim if ya wanna take a gander.”
✦˖° @stgzr: “We were informally introduced….” Rex is nursing his battle damage with some liquor. He passes the bottle to Darlynne.
ᯓ🧸˖° “Yeah ... you were the bat and I was the ball, right?” Darlynne groaned. The concussion had long gone now (in record time, for any normal human) but that didn’t mean the lingering headache—or wounded pride—went away with it. “America's pastime can go fuck itself.”
She took a swig of booze GLADLY. It burnt down her throat but the ache dulled as a familiar warmth settled in. Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff. The lovebug hidden away happily chirred within.
Darlynne then passed the bottle back over with a nod as thanks.
“Name’s Darlynne … or Heartache … or baseball now, I reckon,” she snickered. “What’s yer’ name, bat boy?”
✦˖° @starpcwered: “Bogos binted?” *minecraft cave noise* // for Ophelia!
ᯓ💜˖° “OH, MY! HOW’D YOU SAY THAT WITH YOUR MOUTH?”
ᯓ🧸˖°// obligatory Pokémon team posting GO !!!
"I try."
Rex nodded along. As far as he could observe of all this, he still regarded Corbeau as fulfilling the role of a community leader. If one who did not wish to be credited as such.
It is in the observation of the society beneath the opulence and the success of Eclipse that Rex recognized the humanitarian efforts had their limits. That ultimately, the burden was still handed off to others. Humans not only taking their robotics for granted, but fearing aberration instead of using their vaunted scientific capabilities to better understand them. And they were rapid prodigies when it came to their science. Perhaps that was where their arrogance lay. Ascending the mountain of progress without mind to the fact the holding points on cliffsides could crumble beneath their hands and feet.
But the underground was also a vast celebration of life.
There was still an economic lifeblood to keep up. But one that did not disintegrate at every little opportunity for growth. Tensions were kept at bay by communication. Recognizing each other's identities and how they inhabited the place, could both harm and benefit-- and worked around that. Corbeau and Philippe did not have to do the things they did, being possessed of more resources and talent than most.
But they had. And Rex was at least thankful for that.
There was a bow from the secretive extraterrestrial. Although the affect of his voice and the expression of his temperament could be muted in this lifetime, he still made it a point to convey the most authentic messages he could relay, even limited as he could be. Thumbing over the menu with equal interest in the text as the texture of the thing and how long it had been in use. Ordering a filling meal, drink, and dessert.
"Thanks."
He minded how Philippe did not take a seat. Wondering if this meeting was still in the realm of business. Right-hand man remaining at the ready?
"... Please. If you have anything to say, I am listening. And I will try to act accordingly if there is need of doing."
ᯓ🐦⬛🔩˖° Corbeau watched Rex carefully. His attention was already snagged before, but now up close and personal, seeing how this stranger took in everything like it was something worth being called precious …
‘Whatta weirdo,’ he thought, but not with malice. Not even a smirk or sneer. Just a nod, as he motioned for Philippe to finally be at ease. “He fits right in.’
“You should be careful who you offer services to. You’ll attract nothin’ but trouble and ne’er-do-wells.” NOW Corbeau smirked, turned to Philippe who returned the same look. “Too late for that, I guess.”
The smirk soon fell back into a relaxed frown, or at least, as much as the boss would allow himself in public.
“Not a fan of small talk, eh? Me either. So I’ll be real with you: I still don’t know you. I know everyone else ‘round here, I even know people who shouldn’t be here, but I don’t know you.”
The waiter—who was also the chef, and probably even the owner, but definitely the same one who gurgled from the back—dropped off the entries half-haphazardly onto the table. W … was that waiter’s thumb in the ramen? Regardless, thanks were still exchanged and the waiter only grunted in return.
At least the food was hot and the drinks cold.
“You see how that might put a guy on edge?” Corbeau asked and split his chopsticks apart. Philippe nodded along sympathetically while he carefully cut into his quiche, and as the boss downed an egg whole (jaw opening wider than what a human’s would), he filled in for the rest.
“The boss wants to know more about you. In exchange, we’ll share information of our own. Within reason.”
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✦˖° @punchedharder: ❝ i look lousy, but don't rub it in. ❞ for ophelia!
ᯓ💜˖° “Doc said you shouldn’t rub bruises,” even if it was funny seeing people squirm. That cutesy little, shit-eating smirk on Ophelia’s face meant she knew what Emily meant.
At least the smirk softens as she takes another looksie over our fighting champ. All battered and bruised (but when was Emily ever not)? Ophelia can’t help but giggle, it sputters out past her lips before a hand could cover the noise.
She looks like a bruised up peach found at the bottom of the box. “You promise the other guy looks worse, yeah?”
