#deathdissected

        There’s a charming quiet to the greenhouse, the kind of quiet made of a patchwork of little noises. The buzz of the lights, the steady drip of a humidifier pipe somewhere, the expectant rustling of leaves. 

        More than that, though, what Dr. Blackwell loves is the warmth. It’s a welcome respite from the bone-gnawing cold outside. He lets it soak in as he wanders through the islands of greenery, lingering over the orchids as he always does. Today he goes further, until the perfume of the flowers is replaced by something sharper, greener. He studies the light on a pitcher plant, the way leaves turn to flesh turn to stained glass under the grow-lights. He almost doesn’t notice the other figure sharing the space- but then he does, and tears himself away from contemplation to offer a polite smile.

vine.co/v/M6BO9… u mean this one?

“Orange line?” They repeat, as tactfully as they can manage. It isn’t... That tactful. It’s pretty obvious from their tone they’re irritated, though it’s likely not with him. They knew well enough not to shoot the messenger. Probably. But who really knew with random people at the bus stop? 

“What the actual fuck does that mean?” They ask after a second, but now they sound more stressed then anything else. They, themself, have no umbrella, they’d just come up and are curled in on themself. Their and clothes are stuck to their body, and it’s pretty obvious they’ve been out here awhile. 

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🕹 Video game you are currently playing

I haven’t played too much this summer! Out of the few games I have tried, my regular go-to game is Dead by Daylight. (Up until the past couple of weeks to prep for my finals.)

I’m so salty about that game. But I’ve also put too much time into it to NOT be salty about it. The recent survivor nerf was unnecessary and while I’m pleased with the Hag and Trapper buffs, this pattern of CHIPPING away at survivor’s abilities is ridiculous. At the lowest ranks (highest skill), survivors are forced to play a very strict set of meta perks. Killers too, to some degree, but they have so much more freedom and fun? Taking away survivors’ tools, from exhaustion to flashlights, is exhausting.

tl;dr killer is ez and survivor nerfs are bullshit.

  Supervising a body transfer wasn’t one of Ifan’s favourite things to do. Supervising one in the early morning, before he’d had his coffee? Even worse. So there he was, standing in line at the hospital’s main inexplicably generic cafe, looking probably more corpse-like than the corpse he was about to help drag back to their office proper.

  Being tired could only lead to one thing in his case. Lowered inhibitions. And lowered inhibitions led to being chatty, which led to him picking someone next to him in line as the unwitting victim in his small talk tirade. “Thought I ought to warn you, the espresso here is miserable, but it works.”

when it came to the matter of who looked more like a corpse, victor could have given ifan a fair run for his money. if he’d slept at all last night, his face didn’t show it — beneath his eyes, which were still half-lidded, the skin sagged in heavy, dark bags, and every minute or so, he had to press his lips together to stifle a yawn. 

[ pilot ] your muse taking mine by the arm , hand , shoulder , etc . to lead them .

"I'm okay, I'll be okay," the caregiver wheezes, picking himself up and off the floor. He seemed to try and avoid the swinging skeleton that was close to bumping into him as he picks up the dropped linens. The kids that gathered at the corner have went off, possibly to avoid getting questioned.