#brokenragdoll

@spookyragdoll

i’m really selective when it comes to following a.hs rp blogs on this blog and i did have a separate one but i haven’t been on in so long but i’m really glad i follow you on here. sally is (in my opinion) a really complex character to get and you play her perfectly, with all her layers and all your extra verses. hell, sometimes i even read some of your threads i’m not embarrassed to admit that. you play a perfect sally and i’m sure you play a perfect meadow too. you don’t see many hotel blogs anymore but you still have sally and i’m hella impressed by that tbh. 

you are so loved and so important to the roleplay community, i respect the hell out of you and i know a lot of other people do too. it warms my heart to have you on my dash. never stop writing because i can tell it’s one of your passions!!

“ DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOU are, miss? ”   scully asks softly, the doctor looming over her newest patient. she’d been brought in due to a near overdose, and it’s almost a miracle she’s still alive.

@brokenragdolll ♥’d ;;

        it is not the WORST demise death has witnessed. 

                      nor is it the GENTLEST. 

         “ sally mckenna. “

                      knees are dropped to the concrete, headless of                       the dirt and filth there on the alleyway floor.                        willowy fingers gather the corpse close and                         search the suffering woman’s eyes closely;                        what a BROKEN SOUL is this ?

sally’s legs crossed under the table, one hand clasped around the woman’s fingers as she brought an almost empty glass to her lips for one last, much needed sip. liquid courage, the scent of cigarettes clinging to her nose as the two blondes waited in perfect silence. slowly, and with her eyes shut tightly, the rag-doll swallowed its honey colored contents before setting it back down on the table, swiveling on her seat to face the blonde actress and gift her with a smile.sweetness touched at her mouth, wine-red lips that twitched and connected with the column of bridget’s throat for a loving, soft and yet, drunken kiss. then another, the wet tip of her tongue coming out to taste the droplets of perfume dusted across the blonde’s neck.

how very lovely.

❝ i say we hit the bricks, baby. ❞ as she spoke, low whispers that spilled from her mouth, the heroin addict released a single, stifled chuckle and bit down on her skin, leaving a lipstick smear behind. ❝ they ain’t coming, and we’re not waiting. ❞

   once sally took said sip of liquid courage, bridget already knew what was expecting her. and as she felt the other’s lipstick stained, heavenly lips against the sensitive skin of her neck, her assumption was confirmed. sally was getting impatient — and also drunk.

   the actress, too, felt a light hint of dizziness overcome her when she opened her blue eyes again, and quickly, the decision was made. her companion was right; the reunion with their dear friends had to wait. this was going to be a rendezvous for two now.

there's a wicked   chill in the dark atmosphere   ,   causing the girl's back to tremble with a shiver   ;   the corridor stretches out before her   ,   its darkness swallowing her   ,   but emma doesn't stop and run away   .   the hotel remains grimly silent   ,   its colors fading away into nothingness   (   just like the lives of people who step foot into this place   )   .   she drags the heavy bag behind her with a little struggle    ,   eyes peeking out from under thick lashes   ,   wide with wonder   .   she catches a glimpse of a silhouette and it's almost as if she's just imagining it   ,   until she spots dark lips and eyes filled with something sinister that are tracing her every movement   .   ❝  um   ....   hi    ...   i'm sorry to be bothering   ,   ma'am   ,   but i can't seem to find my room   ...   would you   ....   maybe   ....   would you mind helping me find it   ,   please   ?   ❞

To say that Morticia Frump was odd was an understatement. Many men liked looking at her and her twin sister, Ophelia, but none had voiced their interests at being either of the girls’ husbands. While that blatant rejection had taken a toll on her sister, she found it to be quite liberating. It gave her the freedom she needed to explore the topics she was interested in, including dark and gloomy buildings.

One of these was the Hotel Cortez, which exuded some form of old Hollywood glamour and sordid secrets. She spent some time there, but it was during her second visit that she encountered a young woman in a faux fur leopard coat. She’d just checked in and set the case containing her African strangler plant when she noticed a knife on the counter.

                     “Is this your knife?”

She had a low, almost seductive voice, but there was a certain gleam in her eyes when she held the knife up into the light. Seeing the edges were dull, she clicked her tongue and produced a tiny grindstone from her bag. With a few swift strokes, she sharpened the knife and placed it back on the counter. Upon meeting the woman’s gaze, she smiled a little.

the blonde’s tongue clicked with a disapproving shake of her head. 

“cordelia, cordelia, cordelia....” WHAT HAD BECOME OF HER? she was  — unrecongizable. track marks coated her arms, a cigarette falling from her lipstick stained lips ... she was but a shell of her former self. the superme had fallen from her throne, HARD.