((@coffinshared Cindy!))

"What do you want me to do? Say fuck off to the FBI for the second time?"

The offer was one of the most debatablely fucked up she'd seen to date, which was saying something. They were down and out an undercover investigator that had gone missing on a beat for a white power movement down south that had, over time, performed some pretty bold demonstrations. The Neo-Nazi group had wheedled people into political positions, and funneled old money into a mayoral special election, only to be defeated on their own platforms.

And then the FBI lost somebody. Alyssa knew they were dead. A feeling in her gut had rattled up her spine and shook her, saying this one's a bad one to follow up on. Normally she wouldn't do it at all or give a second thought into breaching into something that wasn't even journalism.

But one of the names of the group members had stood out to her. Ex Umbrella, and disgraced. The kinds of people the movement picked up were all of a stripe, and a lot of it had to do with the community that destitution or degenerative circumstances led to. Her offer at its base was pretty simple. Collect information for them, figure out what was going on with them and the mayor, and maybe find out what happened to Agent Ludmill.

All the while, she could act on the best model she knew for this kind of movement: Audrey Ashcroft.

❝ it’s been awhile since i tasted fresh blood. ❞ so says Josefina ( @coffinshared ) to Matilda!

Judging by the absolute mess the other had made, she could guess that. Bodies lay strewn about like discarded dolls, broken and dead. Thankfully, it was not her home, so the mess did not bother her — she'd only arrived because the smell had been overwhelming. Even though she herself was not hungry, the siren call of spilled blood was enough to draw her closer, guiding her towards her most monstrous instincts. ❝When was the last time you fed?❞ She'd hazard a guess, but she wasn't exactly that bothered.

Did she care? A little, but only because the mess was substantial enough to pose the question to begin with. It was polite, manners, like the small talk she hated in her day. God things do not change, do they? Then again, when was the last time she spoke to another vampire outside of Mrs Peters? Met someone just like her....? No. Nope, at least a century ago, if not more. The brunette was the first she'd seen in a long time, and this was the first impression of her. Hm.

((@coffinshared Manuela!))

RANDOM TEXT MESSAGE PROMPTS // @coffinshared

((@coffinshared Leandro!))

RANDOM TEXT MESSAGE PROMPTS

Each sound set off alarm bells in Krauser's mind, eyes continuously scanning the surrounding area. It'd grown difficult to distinguish where the enemy was anymore, the footprints they'd been following being washed away from the rain and nearly rendering their search null and void. Though with each passing second the clothing adorning his body became heavier; soon it'd become difficult to move, and the possibility of sickness came into question. Sigh exhaled and fingers push back blonde locks but ensuring to keep his weapon drawn.

Send 🗣 for my muse to blurt out the first thing they think of when they see your muse. @coffinshared