GO TELL AUNT RHODY THAT EVERYBODY'S DEAD

[dousing]

COVERED IN BLOOD MEME So you're a bit of a mess. Or you're stumbling upon a mess. What happened? There's blood everywhere, what the hell? Is it your blood, animal blood, the blood of someone you murdered? Hell, maybe you ran out of tampons. Anyway, no matter how it got there, you're (or someone you know is) covered in blood. Can it be explained away? If not, is someone going to prison? The hospital? Going to die of blood loss? Get in trouble for playing catch with the blood bags? Man, we don't know. The point is you have a mess to clean up. Or roll around in gleefully, you nasty fucks. • Top level your character. Include any details you might think are relevant. Or don't. As always, we're not the cops. • Reply to other people's top levels! • While this meme is bound to have a lot of potentially triggering content, content warnings for anything ott or very extreme are probably a good idea! • Have fun!

Comments

heine rammsteiner / dogs: bullets and carnage

[caninity]

[doochebag]

[ So. Pickles is like, one of those people that sees a maybe-dead person on the side of the road and thinks, "man, that's pretty fucking brutal, maybe I should take a picture of this and send it to my bandmates, who might get a kick out of it".

Which is exactly what he's doing right now. Next to a bloody and battered Heine who just crashed out of a third-story window, presumably because he chose to do it and not out of any foul play, which is a narrative that Pickles can be comfortable with.

So. He approaches the guy on the pavement leaking rust-red onto gravel, smartphone out and half-empty beer bottle set aside on a nearby trashcan. ]

Yoooo man... you okay there? Uh, don't answer if you're. Ya know. Dead.

[ His camera clicks. Fuck, it's on flash. ]

Ooh, fuck... sorry, ya gotta stay still for me for just a few more seconds, a'right? Ok... ok. Cool. Nice.

[caninity]

[Because falling out of a window and landing in a bloody heap isn't enough. He also has to be blinded by a passerby that couldn't be more blasé -- which is fine. Preferred to the opposite. There's a groan, because he doesn't feel like explaining himself in so many words (or comprehending what this guy wants, but it seems like he's just being nosy? Could be worse) and it isn't very long before he's up on his feet.

With the full appearance of a Halloween decoration.

He doesn't recognize this dude -- maybe he should take his phone anyway? On principle? There's a lot to think about and he's not really in the mood.]

Piss off.

[For all of that concern, even if he was doing it out of necessity.]

[husbun]

E-eeek! W-w-what are you doing?!

[It's a small miracle that Yarne can say anything at all as the sight of a man he's never seen before crosses his path. The fact that this man is looking rather bloody makes every fur on his body stand up, and it's another small miracle that he doesn't pee a little. Heine looks more like a bad guy than a good guy, and he's now the only thing between Yarne and the door out. Next time he wants shelter from the rain, he'll just keep walking.]

I-I'm warning you, don't get any closer! I-I know all sorts of martial arts, and they all work against serial killers! I'm not lying!

[But instead of stepping closer, he's cowering behind a pillar.]

[caninity]

[A few old bullet wounds aren't anything to freak out about, nor is this his first instance of crossing paths with someone more bothered by the whole thing than himself. He regards Yarne with an air of indifference -- a slight knit in his brow indicates he's not quite in the mood to regale him with an explanation.

He doesn't seem suited for it anyway...]

That's good for you.

[Really, it is. Martial arts is a great means of defense against serial killers, sometimes.]

[husbun]

T-that's right! It's great for me and bad for you!

[Since Heine isn't moving any closer, Yarne straightens up just a little. Never before has there been such an expression of anxiety written on someone's face before. He's terrified and squinting at Heine, sizing him up because maybe he can spot his weapons or tell how many people he's killed by the amount of blood on his clothes because clearly it's not his own.

Heine looks too scary to be in distress, Yarne thinks.]

M-my mom taught me special punches for people like you. So don't even think about it!

[caninity]

[It's guns. It's only guns. If it helps at all -- and it probably does not, but he's not at all inclined to reach for them. He seems tired, if anything.]

People like me...

[The heck, that's so rude. What does that even mean. Probably the serial killer thing. Nevermind that Yarne looks like he's adult as heck but talking about his mommy at a time like this...]

It looks like you and I are the same.

[Because Yarne's ears are a new focal point and a new reason to engage. Stay engaged.]

[husbun]

[It's blood. And with his advanced rabbit senses, he can smell it! Heine smells worse than the time Owain tripped and fell while practicing his attempt at triple-wielding swords.]

T-that's right! People like you! You know exactly what I'm talking about, um [think of something threatening], buster [crap!!!]. And we're not the same!

[Yarne visibly cringes at being told he's the same as some serial killer who is here to shave off all of his fur and make...well, a really tiny blanket or jacket, he's not ALL fur in this form.

But then there's something that makes Yarne's stomach churn, something that makes him sick. Maybe it's the way blood drips off of Heine, maybe it's that he's getting a better look, but...the sick feeling is sympathy, because he'd rather just #yolo the fuck out of there.]

W-wait. Is that your blood? I-it's not someone else's?

[caninity]

[Please, he was almost trying to bond. For a split second there.]

It doesn't matter.

[This is the most awkward conversation of the day. It truly doesn't, though! He's mobile, healed up and everything. His clothes are a completely different matter, however. He may have to go shopping sometime in the immediate future.

#priorities]

Unless you have a spare shirt.

[husbun]

Wait, wait. You can't say that and then say it doesn't matter, that's...against the rules or something.

[Yarne is not a master debater, so the argument that comes out of his mouth is as pathetic as his shaky legs. He feels like gelatin. Ooh, he could just pass out, but he won't because he needs to live on and get laid.]

I, uh.

[Yarne frowns. Maybe this guy is okay? But what did he do to get shot. He's still not revealing himself fully, but thankfully this is a modern verse where he has reasonable clothes.]

You can just take mine, b-but you can't hurt me! That's my condition!

[caninity]

[Goths don't live by any rules.

Still, Yarne's changed his tune some -- even offering the shirt off his back. Heine seems far from humbled. Far from anything.]

I wasn't going to in the first place, keep your shirt.

[He'll regard his own, righting his posture just a bit (he'd been leaning forward, subconsciously), and proceed to inspect the holes in his button-up between his thumb, index and middle fingers. Like a musician restringing their violin or guitar or something.

There sure is a lot of blood this time around.]

[husbun]

[Yarne was only going to give him that shirt because he fears for his life, and also because he looks great in just jeans. His thighs look magnificent.]

That's exactly what someone who wanted to hurt me would want me to think. I'm not taking my eyes off of you just yet!

[But ugh. Look at this guy. He's gross. And he probably killed someone else to get gunshot wounds in his shirt, how is he not dead?]

I-if you're really not going to hurt me, and I won't believe that so easily, then what happened to you? How are you even walking?

[caninity]

[Any excuse to be lewd...

Moreover, if this guy is a product of experimentation, he shouldn't be so confused. Confused to a degree, yeah, but.

He refrains from looking away from the lopsided holes splayed across his chest. The frays and splintered strings are bothersome as much as they are laden and slick with blood.]

I wouldn't be talking to you, if you were in danger.

[Why would he stall like this. The rest, he's not so enthusiastic to answer.]

[husbun]

[Yarne is no experiment. Maybe he's a mutant, maybe he's an animal. It doesn't matter right now, and he's not about to fill in any blanks for Heine, either.

He keeps glaring at Heine from his comfortable spot behind his pillar, eyes occasionally flickering past Heine to the way out. He feels like a rabbit backed into a corner. He should've picked somewhere with a more convenient back entrance to hide in.]

So...you are a threat, then? I-I'd think twice about hurting me. [AGAIN.] I'm the last of my kind, so if you kill me, you're responsible for an extinction. You'd never live with the guilt!

[He pauses.

His ears droop, and he lets out the loudest sigh.]

Actually, you don't really look like you'd care.