thedifferencebetween | Ryslig Inbox

There once was a boy who was a Halloween fanatic. He loved dressing up for Halloween, he loved pulling pranks and watching horror movies, and above everything else... he loved candy. One fateful year, while he went trick-or-treating, he visited a house. This house was creepy as hell! It was big, it was old, it smelled like a grandmother and it was owned by a happy, old rich couple. The boy came here thinking that he would be handed out big chocolate bars, because it was a rich person's house but when he knocked on their door... he was handed a bag of that shitty candy that nobody likes! Tootsie rolls, shitty flavoured dum-dums, those weird... peanut things... needless to say, the boy was heartbroken. He was so heartbroken that he died, right there on their porch and now, every Halloween he goes out and finds people to curse. He wants everyone to suffer the same way he did!

Everybody is already suffering from his curse!! Send this to ten people to break the curse, or to avoid getting cursed, or you'll be stuck looking freakier than usual for the rest of your life!!!!!!!!!!

Hi there! I'm looking for a lost piece of jewelry and one of the other monsters... ("BILLCIPHER"? Whoever that is, he seemed nice) mentioned you had found it?

A leather cord necklace with a polished scale hanging off of it.

If you do, I'd really like to retrieve it at some point, thank you!

Best place to get liquid nitrogen here. Go.

what's up, I ate an entire cleanup crew and now I have the weirdest indigestion

we're talking 5, maybe 6 guys at once

[You know what's awkward? A ten o'clock in the morning walk of shame back from the office-slash-apartment of a guy that, technically, you'd only known for like a week. And, like, a week on the outside, he'd only gone on maybe half a date with him before, if Majima taking pity on him and buying him a cup of coffee and an hour with some friendly cats counted as a date.]

[Tim feels like he has a neon sign hovering over him. He doesn't regret last night, but he absolutely does regret not having a change of clothes.]

[Maybe he'll be lucky and Jack will already be gone by the time he gets home. Sure, he'll have to think up an excuse as to why he was gone all last night, but at least Jack won't see him walking in wearing yesterday's clothes and his hair a mess and the giant bite mark on his neck. God, maybe he could convince him that he'd been mugged? By somebody who had a really weird idea of a mugging?]

[Tim opens and closes the front door as quietly as humanly possible. God, just let him be lucky once...]

Hey Jack,I've got a question

Who the fuck broke into my house and dismantled all my shit so they could leave a bunch of weird trash monuments on my lawn?

That was rhetorical. I know it was you. Just hang tight, I'm coming over to kick your ass

Edited 2019-03-04 19:28 (UTC)

[Alright, so Felfri is a wrap. It's unfortunate it had to come down in such a way- Taako would have appreciated the party- but now it's back to him and his tail and Jack's lack of dick sucking lips and no magic, all of which is a damn shame. Taako figures he could mope about it- and he certainly wants to- but he doesn't have an interest in wallowing for any longer. So instead, he's back on his bullshit to find something fun to do, and returning to a prank he's had in mind for a while seems like just the ticket. He rings Jack for a booty call not long after Felfri, and once he's over and the bedroom door is closed, he rounds on Jack, tail coiled around his feet and body pressed close.]

So, my man. Had an idea for this go round, if you'll indulge me.

[He pets some of Jack's hair absentmindedly, fixing him with an excited grin.]

[It's around 5:15 am when Rick starts making his way to Jack's place, but he has no idea of what time it is. He didn't bother to check the time or do anything beyond peeling the plastic caps out of his eyes before getting the Hell away from the abandoned fairgrounds.

He's unsteady, but remarkably well groomed when he teleports directly into the living room and manifests in a circle of spluttering flames. He stumbles forward and trips over the coffee table. It tips over with a loud crash as Rick lands on the ground with a muffled, unintelligible grunt, then immediately attempts to scramble to his feet, tail thudding against the furniture as it furiously whips from side to side.]

[It had started last fog, though Tim hadn't really recognized it then. It was just... a vague feeling, sort of restless and indirect. He would be hungry and he wouldn't know what for, so he'd open the refrigerator and stare at the contents and none of it would seem appealing, despite the hunger pangs. And he would just think 'well, maybe pizza?' and order one for himself and it wasn't that, pizza wasn't what he'd been craving, but he ate it anyway.]

[He didn't recognize it either when he started watching people a little more closely than usual, the paths they took in the streets and how that all fit in with his mental map of the city. Likely ways they'd go, the winding back alleys and how many of them were dead ends. But that was just people watching, right? He'd done that ever since he was a kid, find interesting looking people and make up stories about them. This was... a bit of a deviation from that, but it was fine.]

[Then the fog rolled in again.]

[The restlessness became worse, and so did the hunger, and Tim's memory started to become nothing more than brief snapshots of time on that first foggy night. The darkness and empty streets, the gnawing hunger; fleeing footsteps; scared eyes in a dark alley. The feeling of a fragile neck in his hand.]

[Then just-- red, and heat, and satisfaction. A full belly and dripping mouth.]

[What am I doing? What have I done?]

[That's how Tim comes back to himself-- kneeling over a ruined corpse with his mouth tasting like copper and his hands wet. It's a nightmare, and for a few long seconds he can't really believe that it's real, that this is... that this is something that he's done. His hands shake and he pushes himself away from the body, stumbles as he lurches to his unsteady feet. His stomach is full and the gratification of it is sickening.]

Oh. Oh, god. Oh god.

[He runs. He doesn't know what else to do.]

[When he finds himself back at the house, he fumbles with the lock, barely managing to get it open without dropping the key. Inside, his shoulder hits the wall and he trips into a piece of furniture, he's not sure what it is, it just makes a lot of noise when he knocks it over. He falls, hits the floor hard on his knees and as he tries to get back up, his legs are shaking too much to stand.]

[Tim doesn't want to look at himself, but his hands are sticky and his shirt's soaked and his face, god, it's all over his face, he can smell it every time he breathes.]

so rick’s here but don’t come up because he thinks you’re a dog and it’s like. kind of funny? and also sad.

There once was a boy who was a Halloween fanatic. He loved dressing up for Halloween, he loved pulling pranks and watching horror movies, and above everything else... he loved candy. One fateful year, while he went trick-or-treating, he visited a house. This house was creepy as hell! It was big, it was old, it smelled like a grandmother and it was owned by a happy, old rich couple. The boy came here thinking that he would be handed out big chocolate bars, because it was a rich person's house but when he knocked on their door... he was handed a bag of that shitty candy that nobody likes! Tootsie rolls, shitty flavoured dum-dums, those weird... peanut things... needless to say, the boy was heartbroken. He was so heartbroken that he died, right there on their porch and now, every Halloween he goes out and finds people to curse. He wants everyone to suffer the same way he did!

Everybody is already suffering from his curse!! Send this to ten people to break the curse, or to avoid getting cursed, or you'll be stuck looking freakier than usual for the rest of your life!!!!!!!!!!

[Tim can't put off going back to the house forever. He has to go and probably talk to Jack-- he wouldn't say that he'd expect Jack to be worried about him, but he's sure that he'll want to know what the hell happened to him for the past week or so. It'll be easy enough to explain, at least, since the shit that went on with the poachers was common knowledge. He just wasn't sure what Jack's reaction to his kidnapping and injuries would be. Sometimes Jack didn't seem to give much of a shit about his wellbeing, and other times he was weirdly protective.]

[So, crapshoot. He hoped that Jack didn't get weird about his safety after this, though, it would make it a lot harder to go out with Majima.]

[Tim opened the door in the afternoon and walked inside. Amazing how much you took having arms and hands for granted until you didn't anymore.]

Uh... Jack? Are you home?

jack.

[Not "Robo-Jack". Not "Tinman". Not "bucket of bolts". Not anything rude, nor teasing, nor mean.
Just Jack.]

i need your help with something, can you come out here?
i know you know where i'm staying, and i know you don't like it, but
please.

man i'm getting real tired of weird eldritch abominations eating people that i like

so

you've got access to a lab with chemicals and stuff, right?? can we just napalm this thing and be done with it

Are you still offering your services as a human butcher, by any chance?

When Jack reaches the seedy bar whose address he gave 'longfinger,' he'll find there's a man already nursing a drink at a table near the front. He's dressed in a button-down shirt and plain slacks in the local style--it's easy enough to guess that they probably came from the charity donations that Lust distributes from her bath house.

He raises a hand in greeting when he sees Jack, turning so that they can see each other face to face.

"'H.Jack69,' I presume?" he says, in a pleasant tenor voice. "Or at least, you're the first person I've seen who fits the description of 'zombie ghost.'"

One thing is for sure: 'longfinger' wasn't lying when he said he was good-looking. There might be the slightest tinge of sallowness to his brown skin, sure, but that does nothing to his impeccable bone structure. Warm hazel eyes behind wire-rim glasses, black hair with just a touch of grey at the temples, a light bit of bearding, and a small, but pleased smile on his face... he's a textbook example of 'hot nerd.'

Jack, this is Steven/Longfinger in my normal account. I'm sorry for bothering you, but have you seen Virgil since the 27th? He hasn't returned any of my messages since that morning and with all the poacher-related disappearances, I'm worried that this isn't just a simple ghosting. I know he works for you, so I thought I'd check.

Got some live ones.

And by live, I mean dead. Three of them. Where do you want 'em?

How’s the Handsomest Jack I know? LOL! Hey, I’ve been on the hunt for some recipes, and who better to ask than the finest chef in Ryslig? :D You got anything for key-lime pie?

Why did the baker cross the road? ...He has muffin else to do! Haha! :)

Handsome?

Are you

[What did you say, after a week like that?]

Well- you?

[ He's... not going to read the backlog of messages he's posted in the week before. The true horror of this place isn't the monsters; it's the lack of delete button. ]

You wanted a business. I've got a bakery. [ Somehow. For some reason. He doesn't want to remember how his name ended up on that lease. ] Could be a good front. Pastries in the front, bodies in the back. Sell your Mrs. Lovett Meat Pies without making it too obvious to the humans.

Hey, Handsome? You work at Lienwen Labs, right? You ever meet that Dr. Liewen guy?

WHERE ARE YOU

Got a freezer full of donated people parts. Been sitting around since the circus came to town. Think they're any good?

Hey, SO

In the interest of full disclosure, and so as not to kill our sweet ass streak of good adulting and excellent communication... I got to tell you something.

I talked to Angel.

It was a total accident- she hit me up on the Network, I saw the screen name, let her know I knew you and if she didn't want to talk to me, it was totally fine. She shouted for awhile and then logged off. Not much to tell, but... you know, I felt I should. Tell. You, I mean, cause of the communication and... yeah.

Soooo, now you know!

Edited 2020-12-08 21:05 (UTC)

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, HANDSOME JACK. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 021.07.222.57 * H.Jack69 has joined 021.07.222.57 <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <BANNED USER> SCREENED MESSAGE. UNSCREEN? Y/N -- sample for when you ban someone <USERNAME> First sentence of message. <USERNAME>** First sentence of message.

<C_137>

<baiseal-leaf>

<C_137>

<C_137> (backdated to February 1st)

action; sometime in January

<C_137> (Shortly after everyone got back from Kulen)

action, 3/27, IGNORE THAT LAST ONE,

GOOD MORNING, JACK

IT'S FOG TIME like idk 4/4ish whatever

< mrhandsome69 >