♯͟𝐏͟𝐀͟𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐏𝐒𝐄 a highly PRIVATE portrayal of 𝙿𝙾𝚂.𝚃𝙰𝙻'𝚂 𝗣𝗢𝗦.𝗧𝗔𝗟 𝗗𝗨𝗗𝗘 removed from canon & based of personal analysis & headcanons. highly critical of franchise. media influences from solely 1997 . no knowledge on 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙻 is required to interact. * low activity &͟& friend priority. RARELY FOLLOWS FIRST. 21+ environment.
𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐍 ﹕ the state of selves ⸝ how mental illnesses changes people ⸝ the stress of modern day living ⸝ the negligence of mental health in the 90s ⸝ what it means to ' GO PO.STAL ' ⸝ the fear of god & the end-times ⸝ angels are soldiers ⸝ the desire to live no matter the cost ⸝ the easy way out is death ⸝ the repercussions of your unforgivable sins ⸝ the eldritch horror of becoming HOLY.
this page deals with a slue of triggering subjects && sensitive topics due to source material &͟& personal retelling ⸝ INTERACT AT YOUR OWN RISK.
This will be where I house my rules for the time being, please make sure to read them. They are important &͟& will ensure we get along :)
first &͟& foremost ; I AM VERY CRITICAL ON POS.TAL AS A FRANCHISE, I do not support Vin.ce &͟& the content inside the games. I WILL TALK NEGATIVELY ABOUT GAMES 2 - 4. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. ( I have completed all games, I deeply despise anything past 1997. ) furthermore, knowing the type of community that this game fosters let me get out some rent lowering rules ; THIS IS NOT a safe space for people to crack jokes at the expense of POC, transgender individuals, or members of the LGBT as a whole. nor is this a safe space for Nazis , T.CC members, or anyone of that category.
› I am an individual with a VERY low drive &͟& social battery. this majorly affects how I interact with the internet. Due to this I can be very active for multiple weeks or months on end &͟& then disappear for the same amount of time or even longer. Please have patience with me when it comes to writing / replying. I do this as a hobby to distress in my free time.
I am avoidant &͟& ASPD. I love talking to people but It is actually hard at times for me. Please have patience again when it comes to this. I am doing my best. I am not ignoring you I just physically cannot bring myself to reply to you OOC.
› I am what many consider a DEAD DOVE writer, this means I lean into triggering subjects at time &͟& I explore them with the grit that they ought to be handled with. What this DOESN'T mean is that I will be writing TABOO subjects on this page, &͟& if you are looking for a space involving TABOO subjects this is not the place for you.
TRIGGERS EXPECTED TO BE SEEN HERE WILL BE AS FOLLOWED ; violence, gore, untreated mental illnesses that manifest in acts of extreme violence, dissociation, derealization, self harm + suicide in both passing & explicit depictions. manipulation, gaslighting, drugs & drug abuse, Alcohol & alcohol abuse, torture, cults, religious psychosis & trauma, medical malpractice / abuse & more will appear on this page or in writings.
› Due to the fact I am HIGHLY critical on POS.TAL, PD is heavily headcanon based &͟& extremely removed from the source material. I'd argue hy is my OC at this point &͟& is much different than most portrayals. Please DO NOT act like you know my muse, or their lore extensively ( unless I've told you hys story ) based off their canon counterpart, especially since 97 is left HEAVILY up to the player’s personal perception and I do not take much, if anything at all, from the rest of the franchise.
› I WRITE PD AS A PERSON WITH DID. Please be aware of this before interactions as it will heavily affect interactions &͟& dynamics.
I am a person with DID, PD's DID is a very personal thing to me. I will be using my experiences through interactions.
› I AM OKAY WITH DUPLICATES IF THERE ARE ANY OUT THERE, but I ask you to please respect my portrayal of PD as this portrayal is VERY personal to me as seen above, as well as other undisclosed reasons ; lets interact :D lets put our dudes in situations!
Just because I don’t like 2 - 4 doesn’t mean I won’t interact with dudes from those games. Come put your paw in my cage. Let’s make something beautiful.
› I ADORE SHIPPING &͟& the exploration of character dynamics with PD as hy is a very complicated character. I will preference that shipping is NOT my primary focus on this page, but I will not shy away from it if I think our characters have chemistry ; if you ship them I probably do too!
I DO SHIP THE DUDES, SITUATIONALLY.
› Here comes the curve ball you may have been wondering about if you have looked at my page, more specifically my writings. I write in 2nd person with a heavy focus on descriptive language to explore how my muse is feeling &͟& the environment they are in. This can be confusing at times so please, if at any point you would rather me write in 3rd person, feel free to ask! i am more than willing to fluctuate my writing to ensure we both can enjoy our experiences writing together :)
› I am 24 years old, I do not care for interpersonal drama, or this he said she said debate. Most drama can be talked about privately in DMS &͟& if you try to start issues with me I will likely just block you &͟& move on with my life. I wont enable or entertain vagueposts either. Unless the person in question is ACTUALLY dangerous, please keep your drama, or vagueposts to yourself.
THE TIGER. also known as THE PATRON SAINT OF ONE WAY TRIPS. 24, genderless, nonhuman queer. No pronouns default, use my name. Indigenous mixed. full time student balancing a full time job ontop of this. tysm for reading I’m so excited to interact with u. 🐅
music pfp (c) &͟&
banner art commission (c) &͟&
header (c)
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[ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤ who have they never forgiven and never will ?
Everyone is expecting this answer ; hys father. PD's father was a very strict man both in the way of living, && how he thought PD should be living + religion. He was basically in a religious doomsday cult while having custody over PD, which heavily affected hymn and hys relationship with others to a major degree in which it is STILL very much damaged even after finding hys way back into hys mother's care. This isn't mentioning how his father tried to treat hys mother before she went && got away from him.
[ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤ what’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ?
PD is a short fuse in many regards, hes quick to defensiveness over anger but those can be easily misconstrued as PD isn't the best at articulating his emotions. The quickest way to set them off is to honestly talk ill about hys mother, or pick at his dog Champ both important center pieces of stability in his life. He used to lash out from time to time in other regards as well, especially if he heard people whispering about HIM, but that's instead shifted into debilitating paranoid and the need to exit the scene as soon as possible instead of anger.
[ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤ when did they feel the safest ?
This is a tricky one. PD is a very paranoid individual, hy doesn't feel safe and is usually on some degree of 'alert' due to hys upbringing && the disorders he suffers with. While D isn't always in states of episodic delusions, or debilitating paranoia hy IS always expecting, on edge. The closest PD can get to 'safe' is locked in hys house, tucked into a corner of his bedroom cradling his gun, but even then it isn't TRUE peace.
His assortment of 'peaceful' memories are associated with hys mother, that is probably the closest to safe he could pinpoint, but even then those memories and that time doesn't fit the textbook description of 'safe'
₊˚⊹ ㅤa collection of character analysis/headcanon questions to learn more about your character and your partners'! writing/headcanon prompts requested by anonymous. feel free to edit these as you see fit.
[ 🖐️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do their hands feel like: soft, calloused, trembling ?
[ ☂️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they crave touch or fear it ?
[ 🎐 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a sound, like a song or voice, that they associate with peace ?
[ 🕊️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen did they feel the safest ?
[ 💤 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they sleep ? curled up, sprawled, holding onto something ?
[ 🦇 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a fear they never talk about ?
[ 🔒 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a secret they’ve sworn never to tell ?
[ 🪢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they broke a promise ?
[ 🫳 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they feel they owe, but never paid back ?
[ 💼 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat do they always carry with them ?
[ 🧨 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the quickest way to set them off, even if they hide it well ?
[ ⛓️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does guilt feel like to them ?
[ 💢 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho have they never forgiven and never will ?
[ 🩸 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there something or someone that, if lost, would break them ?
[ 🌧️ ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a pain they refuse to heal from ?
[ 🪞 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen have they looked at their reflection and hated what they saw ?
[ 📿 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat superstition or ritual do they cling to ?
[ 🌊 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhen was the last time they cried ?
[ 🐾 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo animals like them instinctively ?
[ 🪶 ]ㅤ.ㅤhow do they laugh ?
[ 🫀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho taught them what love is ? did it hurt ?
[ 💭 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they believe they’re worthy of being loved ?
[ 🎀 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is their main love language ?
[ 🔦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwho do they search for ?
[ 📜 ]ㅤ.ㅤis there a story they love sharing with others ?
[ 🌒 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a dream or goal they have given up on ?
[ 🕯️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat memory do they replay when they’re alone ?
[ 🌪️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s the one choice they regret (not) making ?
[ 🧩 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat’s a truth about themselves they refuse to admit ?
[ 🍻 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of drunk are they ?
[ ✉️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of letter would they write but never send ?
[ 🗡️ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat is a scar that they have but never talk about ?
[ 🕸️ ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a favourite lie they like to hear ?
[ 🪦 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat would they want on their gravestone but never admit aloud ?
[ 🎱 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat kind of future do they crave, and who’s in it ?
[ 🌀 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they have a recurring dream or nightmare ?
[ 🍃 ]ㅤ.ㅤdo they feel like they belong ?
[ ⚓ ]ㅤ.ㅤwhat does “home” mean to them ?
[ 🧭 ]ㅤ.ㅤwhere would they go if they could disappear tomorrow ?
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Theres a quiet comfort that the woods bring, a peace inside the calamitous existence of societal expectations, yet when you slip inside the flora && fauna you’re free from what the world expects of you instead allowed to exist in whichever way you pleased. That’s how you viewed the forest before you began slipping down your rope— deeper into the depths of reality, as red tinted shades were shattered && you were enabled to see the world for what it really WAS, not how you were force fed to see.
The gun rattles in your hands, metal jostles as the crimson from a wound at your side stains clothes && foliage thick with the ichor of the condemned. ( most of the red staining your vessel is theirs, over your own. ) The gash oozes as you hunker against one of the trees shoulder pressing into bark as your free arm sweeps to cradle the puncture. You were just catching your breath, stabilizing yourself to return to the Frey of cleansing those who were twisted into unrecognizable shells of their former selves until— “ that gun won’t help you here ” it cuts through the hazy bones of a plan && places you once more in the woodlands.
The muzzle of a rifle, the same one trembling in your grasp, rises && sweeps across the small clearing as your back sits pressed against a tree, ignoring the word of advice from the voice. “ I’m not afraid of you.. wherever you are- ” ( Yes you were. Look at you, a sheep dressed as a Wolf, attempting to look larger than you really were. ) “ show yourself. ” there’s a strain to your words, forcing forward confidence over the debilitating fear that claims you.
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⇀ When Nottem had first learned of the Paradise killer, it was through thorough research. Scouring archives and news sites all over the internet, looking for every source of information without directly calling the other up, even though he did find his number. Nottem knew more about dude than it probably knew about itself. All of this culminating to create a man who clumsily and oafishly held a mirror up to the other. A rather imposing figure, dressed in a similar black trench coat and devoid of the color it had, with thoughts of a rotting, pest infested world only he and dude were able to cleanse.
And now, the violent giant sat next to his hero, toying with lint stuck to his shirt, his expression, just as devoid of emotion as the first time they'd met, hidden behind a curtain of barely maintained hair. Nottem's giddiness is a well kept secret as he finds his words, for, even if it was his idol, making the dude uneasy and irritated gave him more of a rush than any sort of postive attention.
After the incident, you wished for nothing more than to be left alone. Years spent droning away inside the hallowed halls of sterile scents leaves you aching for the isolation you had grown so fond of in the mundane routine of being. ( it’s much easier on the inside ; everything is so … LOUD once you’re out, it’s harder to sink your claws into, to stabilize yourself against the grain of the calamity of modern day living. ) you’re not sure why you ever thought GOD would allow that.
No, no. That would be too good for the likes of you. The PARADISE KILLER. That’s what they’re calling you, but would they call a prey animal horrified of death the same? Your fingers twitch, hidden eyes flickering upward to study the larger’s features as the hunting dog sits passive before its prey— A fanatic, you’d rather title it what it was, a stalker. he knew more about your life than you even remembered yourself which brought a dryness to your tongue.
Insistence, you’re both stubborn in your own regard. One has fangs to bare, && hate that blinds where the other was guided by fear. “ what makes you so certain about that? You’ve already done so much digging into my personal life you should know everything you want to know already. ” why come here to haunt you ? why come here to hang your sins above your heads ; oh you will be forever tormented for your actions against the innocent. ( they were sick, you were saving them )
how do I explain that YES this is a 𝙿𝙾𝚂.𝚃𝙰𝙻 rp page, but also you have to understand that my vision and view on 𝙿𝙾𝚂.𝚃𝙰𝙻 is heavily contorted by my own personal take on the franchise due to my actual hate for the late games ( 2 - 4 + REDUX ) to the point I've taken the set up / concept of 𝙿𝙾𝚂.𝚃𝙰𝙻 and it's original premise and have made it into my own thing.
It's hard to explain the hare-like dread that fills your chest when you stand before the other, it's a rhythmic pounding of your heartbeat caught closer to your throat than you'd like to admit. When mortal men gaze upon angels, it's said they go mad. YET HERE YOU ARE, eyes hidden behind red frames gazing to heavens wrath ( Maybe you're already mad. Maybe that's why nothing comes from the perception of purity. ) @planetcry speaks, but you're truly still floundering with the whole situation it floats on by without even processing ; blinking harshly, you clear your throat before speaking. " I'm sorry— can.. you repeat that ? " ( how dare you, ask something such as thing to repeat themselves. Why weren't you listening beforehand? is this an act of sacrilege. Oh you're surely doomed to hell now. ) ꕀ ♱ .͟.͟.
theres a vileness that slides from your shoulders &͟& congeals at your feet, trapping you in the emulsified rewriting of your tragedy ; one part delusion, one part sticky sweet truth that rots your teeth, coats your tongue in such a ichor you rather spit it back up instead of swallow [ … ] you’re stagnant in the funeral procession, witnessing other knights of death find normalcy amongst the living, playing pretend / clawing themselves free from their coffins — wiping their hands clean of those they butchered ; maybe you’re giving them too much credit. They’re just hiding it better than you.
The idea causes brows to knit, curtain of red spilling over the dam of shoulders to hide face as eyes fall to the gravel below the mount’s thundering steps. The driver seems focused, ensuring nothing jumps out as the moon hangs by a thin cord casting a silver hum to the traveling duo. You’re allowed to sit alongside @garden-angelica, stare into the Ebony wake that dances hauntingly with your memories in a performance that haunts. ( you just wish to leave this show already, move on like all the other knights freed from the control of the Litch. )
With the Mount halting, you’re dragged from your audience seat ; thrown onto the stage with a few harsh blinks. “ what’s going on, are we at the town? “ the second thing you notice after the sudden stop is the silence wafting from the foliage. ꕀ ♱ .͟.͟.
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There’s a thrumming inside veins whenever he’s around, a discomfort that causes your skin to itch && a desire to to rub at your eyes until the larger dissipates arises. As if he’s nothing but a strange illusion your mind conjures forth / a reminder of the sins that dirty your history with crimson slicked digits, dragging you into ebony wakes of your past.
you’re staring at trembling hands as they sit flat against the ceramic cup ; those are yours. those hands, they’re yours. “ Look, I told you. I don’t want to talk about it. ” the words leave a lot more confident than you were expecting, shocking yourself as the steady lilt to your tone. Hidden eyes flickering toward @clockthatkiller expectantly. The same answer as every other time. ( Isn’t he getting bored by now ? ) ꕀ ♱ .͟.͟.
