BEEN A GHOST ALL MY LIFE.
independent roleplay blog for VECTOR from RESIDENT EVIL: OPERATION RACCOON CITY.
a story of death's shadow, told by vlad.
rules / vector about / breaker about / spectre about
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@stealthkills
BEEN A GHOST ALL MY LIFE.
independent roleplay blog for VECTOR from RESIDENT EVIL: OPERATION RACCOON CITY.
a story of death's shadow, told by vlad.
rules / vector about / breaker about / spectre about

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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last week my doppelganger trapped me in the basement I keep it imprisoned in and took my place in my life. fortunately after the first day of this it came down and asked to have the basement back. Probably a good sign ๐
what is up my guys i was debilitated by a migraine today
im forcing everyone to look at my son i got on my game today
everyone be proud of me my teeth dont suck as much as normal

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แฐ๐ฌ ๐๐ฐ๐ฒ๐ท๐๐ฟ .แ TAKE A LOOK AT MY MUSE + WHAT THEIR LIFE LOOK LIKE HEADCANON PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.
their nightstand.
their voice memos.
their junk drawer.
their car visor.
their desk.
their dorm room.
their basement.
their laundry basket.
their sock drawer.
their keyring.
their notebooks.
their safe.
their cup holders.
their shoe rack.
their gym bag.
their old hard drives.
their USBs.
their medicine cabinet.
their garage.
their e-reader.
their center console.
their shower shelf.
their trash can.
their workstation.
their notes app.
their spare tire compartment.
their spam folder.
their email inbox.
their tablet.
their storage unit.
the place they never let anyone look.
their makeup bag.
their phone.
the back of their closet.
their underwear drawer.
their jeans pockets.
their shared bedroom.
their storage bins.
their passenger seat.
their bookshelf.
their suitcase.
their bed.
their razor drawer.
their spice rack.
their shoebox of keepsakes.
their driver's seat.
their dresser.
their filing cabinet.
their computer.
their bathroom sink.
their playlists.
their freezer.
their online shopping carts.
their glovebox.
their toolbox.
their coat pockets.
their browser bookmarks.
their pockets right now.
under their bed.
their camera roll.
their pillowcase.
their backpack.
their trunk.
their saved passwords list.
their kitchen counter.
their pantry.
their sketchbooks.
their closet.
their loose papers.
their unsent messages.
their purse.
their toiletry bag.
their fridge.
their overnight bag.
their cloud storage.
their shed.
their school bag.
their attic.
their photo albums.
their childhood bedroom.
their wallet.
their headboard shelf.
their locker.
their blocked contacts list.
their burned CDs.
their deleted photos folder.
i have to remember billy's login................
jjk tonight was watching a comedian beat the brakes off of a guy to a banana slip and fall sound effect
nothing like spending all day watching animes with ur friends
"Just food delivery."
Hawk strides in, walking over to the side table to set the bowl and spoon down for Vector whenever he was ready to dig into it. With a light tap, he murmurs, "Food's at your two o'clock. Chicken and rice soup."
"No more bad news," he continues, stepping back to go sit in a chair opposite of Vector, "Just all the same stuff from the last time."
Last update being that there was still only one death, Ahab had managed to keep symptoms from progressing, there still wasn't any indication how they'd get better, and there were no painkillers left to take.
Miserable state of affairs.
Hawk folded his arms on top of the backrest, sitting backwards on the chair to face Vector. He watched how his friend held on to his eyes, trying to ease what he could.
"Same old shit. How are you holding up?"
"No more bad news. Good."
He lets his hands drop from his face once he hears the sound of the bowl being set on the table. His ears were sharper than anyone's at this point, even despite the repeated attempts to deafen him by Beltway.
The black splotches that marked the worst of the sick had spread fingers along his face and down the back of his neck. He knew his arms were coated with them, judging by the stinging numbness that spread down his fingertips.
He suspects he's not sicker because of his time in tight quarters with Ahab, but he can't even be sure of that.
He reaches blindly for the food brought to him, content to warm his hands around it for now. He imagines this incident might be the one to finally turn him gray, which - well, would be an interesting change of events.
"Been worse, but not by much. Eyes fuckin' hurt. Ahab says that's nothin' to do with Raccoon City and everything to do with what happened before it. Suspect I'll lose what vision I've got left unless she can pull a miracle."
He pauses long enough to test the food on his stomach, sensitive at the most normal of times. It reminds him that he feels ravenous, but he has to take his time.
"Still nothin' on you? That's good. Guess you finally do get to cash those lucky breaks."

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from @alphateampilot
"Hey."
Hawk had taken to announcing himself before entering any space with Vector the worse his vision got over the years... if he wasn't announced by the smell of whatever plate of food he decided to fix his friend.
Today, it was asopao de pollo. For health. "How's the Black Plague treating ya?"
The Black Plague is an apt way to describe the situation. The Guild had become a hot bed of sickness seen only in old paintings of the sick scattered across the streets of medieval towns, with the reaper floating between them with a gentle hand to guide them beyond.
Vector's glad Hawk always announces himself when he walked in, because his eyes hurt and he barely gives himself the effort of lifting his head, let alone lowering his hands from his face.
"Bad." His voice is wrecked when he speaks. "Coming to bring bad news, or just food delivery?"
&. ๐๐ง ๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐จ๐ซ๐ญ๐ฆ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐จ๐ ๐๐ข๐๐ฅ๐จ๐ ๐ฎ๐ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ญ๐ฌ.
( this is basically just a very self indulgent list of various fluff, angst, and suggestive themed dialogue sentence starters. )
โ i could keep you safe. theyโre all afraid of me. โ
โ iโm trying to fix your hair, so hold still. โ
โ your heart is beating so fast right now. โ
โ promise me youโll still be here when i wake up. โ
โ youโre not as bad as everyone says you are. โ
โ i thought youโd like some company. โย
โ clean yourself up. you're getting blood all over the place. โ
โ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. โ
โ you can kiss me, you know. โ
โ come back to bed. โ
โ you look good like this. โ
โ working together again, itโs just like old times. โ
โ how is it you always know what i need, huh? โ
โ youโre lucky you got away with only a scratch. โย
โ i canโt imagine losing someone like that. iโm sorry. โ
โ you know you can always talk to me. โ
โ the only one who gets to kill you, is me. โ
โ so, what do i owe this pleasure? โ
โ ah, so you arenโt heartless after all. โ
โ may i have this dance? โย
โ itโs okay, you can touch me. i won't break. โ
โ enemies make the best lovers, you know. โ
โ hold still. this might sting a little. โ
โ we can't keep doing this. โย
โ you look like you've got something to say. โ
โ just relax and let me take care of you. โ
โ thought youโd be lighter without all that blood. โ
โ i had it under control. you didnโt need to do that. โ
โ everything looks so beautiful from up here. โ
โ you treat all your ladies like this? โ
โ well? how do i look? โ
โ canโt sleep? โ
โ do you mind if i smoke? โ
โ iโm scared of ending up alone. โ
โ i donโt think iโve ever seen you smile. โ
โ how long has it been since you've slept? โ
โ you are losing my interest, and thatโs very dangerous. โ
โ iโd suffer hell if youโd tell me what youโd do to me tonight. โ
โ you look really pretty right now. โ
โ iโve never cared for anyone the way i care for you. โ
โ iโm not wearing any underwear. thought youโd like to know. โ
โ just a few more stitches and youโll be as good as new. โ
โ iโd say we make a pretty good team. โ
โ i want you to forget this ever happened. โ
โ i'm here for business โ not pleasure. โ
โ if i didn't know any better, i'd say you were jealous. โ
โ you'd look better down on your knees. โ
โ fine, keep acting like you hate me. โ
โ kiss me again. โ
โ are you asking me out on a date? โ
โ just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this. โ
โ you okay? caught you staring off into space again.ย โ
โ well, i do feel better now that you're here. โ
โ i'm not drunk enough for this. โย
โ why is it whenever we see each other, youโre covered in blood? โ
โ i was wrong about you. โย
โ the first time i met you, i had no idea you'd mean this much. โ
โ you gonna be a good girl / boy for me? โ
โ iโm not afraid of you. โ
โ books mean more to me than people anyway. โ
โ i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me. โ
โ how about a kiss goodnight? โ
โ i donโt have time for distractions right now. โ
โ you shouldnโt be out here by yourself. โย
โ if i have to think about one more thing today, my head will explode. โ
who missed me.
There are different ways of remembering, he supposes. His space at the Lodge has become a haunt, with its owner rarely seen outside of the cameras that he knows Spectre watches like a particularly lazy hawk.
Where he's gone to remember the horrors of that night, left behind in Raccoon City, no one knows. Vector is ever a shadow in the places he lingers, hardly noticeable unless you knew what to look for.
There's a list, somewhere, of Umbrella execs that had escaped the purge of the company. Each name, struck through with ink, reminds him of that original purpose: they were the clean up crew, meant to hide Umbrella's tracks for good, cleanse their hands of the mess they had made.
It's a good list to look at over a glass of whiskey. His eyes have worsened over the years, so the letters aren't legible outside of his goggles, but he knows them all by touch alone. Every last one marked through - well. Almost.
There's always some that weasel away. They'll find their places eventually.
"Cheers. To another year of beating the odds."
sips on a smoothie.

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went to the ocean with nighthawk today and had a great time
Examine: AHAB
EXAMINE: AHAB.
Carla once upon a time, now called Ahab among her peers and friends. She's currently perched on the side of the bed, counting the circular bites on your upper arms with her fingertips. The touch feels like spiders tapping across your skin one step at a time, her index finger fitting into the shape of a molar punched into you so many years ago.
You think, idly, about the way Beltway views her. The way he thinks of her like the wildfire he's been chasing his entire life, the adoration with which he threw himself into the biting walls of a BOW that took his forearm. You can feel the draw, but you aren't sure it's adoration.
You normally annoy her to no end. She frequently throws things at you when you've overstayed your welcome, used to swear at you when you would tell her she was only halfway through the exercise track you had built for her, and had invented new, interesting ways to torment you (the odd crabs clack against their enclosure and still unnerve you.)
Still, you can't help the fond way you feel when you catch her staring out past the mountain range with a look that feels a thousand years older than she is, or the way she laughs when you find a new place to fit your hands against her skin, or the way that she appreciates your broken pieces now.
You miss most of the question she asks regarding the bites, at least until her fingers have trailed high enough to fit against the corner of your lip to force your mouth open so she can look at the state of your teeth.
You normally would hate being treated like a specimen, but she asks about it with such warmth in her tone that you can't help but enjoy the way it thaws her.
press x to examine.