#kkriitters

Great questions, Koy! Thank you for this!

This goes two ways. One, Ghostface detests every RE survivor on the basis that they're well-trained tactical characters who have outsmarted him before. Two, they give great chases and therefore are satisfying kills once caught. The survivors who give up too easily are a bore—hardly worth the effort. But the ones who fight? They're interesting. Especially when they persist in fighting, no matter the cost, no matter how much the Entity tries to beat them back into submission. ( There's something alluring about that. ) Individually, Ghostface has no particular preference or revulsion for one RE survivor or the other. As far as his brain is concerned, they are all one solid unit from the same place.

In terms of killers, he hates Nemesis and tolerates Wesker. He and Albert butt heads a lot, but there is some semblance of toleration there, too. Ghostface respects H.U.N.K.; there's something about a fellow mask-wearer that is just inherently endearing. RPD is actually the Reaper's favorite location, both in trials and out, and is a frequent haunt of his during his free time. ( He cherishes that library. )

I actually have a ( very broad, generalized ) RE verse! At the crux of it, one must remember that Ghostface is a parasite. A cockroach that stubbornly refuses to die. And while he is fascinating by death in its myriad of disguises, there is also a part of him that deeply desires to know, to uncover. There's a reason he chose journalism as his preferred field versus any other career path. Thus, in the RE world, he's hungry for knowledge and scandal. For answers to burning questions. I have only briefly considered the concept of him being infected. There's an allure there, certainly. A reporter deposed, made twisted and cruel(er). Now a part of the very system he sought to expose. How monstrous would he become in form? Who's to say.

@kkriitters || ALIEN (1979) PROMPTS || Accepting

kkriitters asked: "that's the only way." from naoki to raidou uwu!

A threadbare silence lingered between them, the Summoner and the Demi-Fiend, following those words. Raidou was watching him, visage blank yet those eyes spoke volumes. Contemplative. He was thinking, considering something. There were small moments in which the Summoner was reminded that Naoki was no longer human. He might have sounded like one, thought like one for the most part, but the Kagutsuchi held him in its sway just as it did any other demon. The nearer it came to fullness, the other boy would begin to lose some of his rational self. He became more impulsive, agitated.

Seth sits on the couch next to Asaba, face flushed as he stares at him. They decided to have a movie date - Seth tired from a long week and Asaba having a low energy day. Now, they're on Seth's couch after eating take out, movie long since becoming nothing more than background noise.

Asaba had leaned into him for a few kisses, pleased hums rumbling into Seth's lips. As heat ran through his veins, Seth stiffened up with a squeak, pulling away. Now, Asaba is leaned against the back of the couch, gazing at Seth with unconcealed want.

"R-Right. I know that." Seth's tail flicks behind him as he tries to rein in his hammering heart. Slowly, he reaches forward, until his hand rests on Asaba's waist, then the other joins it. After a moment, he uses the hold to lift him over into his lap. A shudder runs down his spine, and he gives in to his urge to press kisses along Asaba's neck, before nipping at his collarbone.

The couple that had visited him were insistent-- people have been disappearing for months now, and the police won't listen, and we know it can't be human, we know it has to be that... And for all that Sebastian isn't one to really believe in monsters beyond human ugliness (after everything he'd seen in STEM, the thought of monsters being real is more sickening than comforting), they had been desperate.

But of course they'd be desperate, considering what they thought to be a monster took their twelve year old away.

The whole drive to this town-- an hour's drive away from Krimson City-- Sebastian keeps the photograph of their little boy in the sunshield of his car. He burns the kid's face in his memory: the round cheeks, the flat nose, the big brown eyes and curly hair, and remembers what his parents had sounded like on the verge of falling apart in front of him.

You're the only one who hasn't turned us away, Detective.

...fuck, it had almost been too much.

The missing child comes from a small town, the kind where everyone knows everyone else. Though the recent disappearances have also happened in the towns neighbouring this one, it's apparent from the sample size that this must be the centre of all the incidents. Nine of the seventeen cases in this area came from here; Sebastian would be a fool if he didn't think that suspicious, even if the day he spends exploring and speaking with the locals doesn't raise any alarms.

Only one of them, an old man who runs the fishing supplies shop, doesn't speak of some generic bastard he hopes Sebastian finds. It's the cave in the middle of the lake, he says, the one that goes below ground. That's where it lives. That's where it's always lived, ever since I was little.

Sebastian entertains the notion he only said that so he'd rent a boat. Nevertheless, he finds himself at the shore of the lake with his hand curled around a pair of oars, looking at the cave on a little splat of land right in the middle of the water. From this angle, he suspects there must be a downward incline starting from the mouth of it.

If you went in there, Detective, I don't think you'd be able to come back.

He sets the oars down in the boat. Sebastian would have started to push it out, too, if not for the sight of someone approaching him out of the corner of his eye. They wouldn't be the first local to approach him since he arrived, so he can't say he's surprised; as he sets his hand on his hips and turns to face them, though, his breath catches in his throat.

With his gentle features, slicked back hair, and terribly organised attire, the guy reminds him an awful lot of...

"Jo..." Sebastian clears his throat, seeing now as he blinks his eyes that it couldn't be his old partner. Clarity, however, doesn't ease the tightness in his chest any. "Uh... sorry. Good evening.

For a moment, Xiao's brow furrows, glancing over the backroom of the pharmacy. It's oddly quiet and empty. Well, until he looks to the floor, and finds a small pile of collapsed pharmacist, Changsheng curled up on top of him.

"Baizhu?" Xiao tilts his chin, eyes narrowing. He steps forward and tentatively nudges him with his foot.

Admittedly, he knows very little about medicine - let alone for humans. But it would be in poor taste to just leave him there... right? It would. Cloud Retainer would never let him live it down. Xiao nudges the Baizhu-bundle with a little more urgency, crouching down to get a better view of his pallid complexion.

He puts a finger in front of the man's nose and mouth, glad to feel soft puffs of breath at the very least.

@kkriitters sent || ❛ here, give this a try and tell me what you think. ❜ for once, miri has cooked; a cold herbaceous white soup — tarator.

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬. || Accepting

If the smell was anything to go by Yuu would ask what in the world he’d made, her senses telling her there was much to be desired about whatever Miri had decided to cook. Who was she, an orphan, to complain about what she ate though? Especially when you considered the meals she did have in her home world usually comprised of some cheap highly processed, brandless, and probably came out of a can meal. Perhaps she’d been a little too spoiled in this world with the many Hearyslabyul unbirthday’s and Kalim’s big party for who knows what reason parties she’s attended. Mostro Lounge and their ever changing dishes also contributed to her spoiling, though not nearly as much thanks to the price gouging of the restaurant. 

It wouldn’t be right to refuse though, and potentially offend her dormmate and vice housewarden and Miri was generally pretty good at reading her so if she didn’t like it she probably wouldn’t have needed to say anything. The idea of hurting him still left a sour taste in her mouth though, so she’d need to be careful here. “Of curiosity what is it? We can smell it from the main room.” We of course being in reference to her and Grim, who despite being a blackhole for food hadn’t moved from his position on the couch. 

“Just so long as you promise it isn’t poison, Crowley would be out an scape goat if so and he might be annoyed.” Not for her well being though, at least that’s what she’d believed solely by the way the idiot headmaster had already treated her. Picking up a spoon and glancing down at the questionable looking mixture Yuu takes a bit, internally yelling at herself to not think about how it looks before bringing it to her mouth and tasting the soup. Holding it in her mouth for a minute and gradually swallowing it down Yuu lets the flavor profile ruminate the texture striking her as strange but the flavor profile actually pretty good. “It’s thicker than I would expect from a soup, but that certainly doesn’t make it bad. I can’t quite detect what the flavor is, but, and I’m being honest, it is quite good Miri.” 

💀