[ Telepathy is bullshit, but considering all the crazy, messed up shit Jake's seen — both before and after coming here, to Verens, apparently, where ever that is — it isn't exactly the most unbelievable thing in the world anymore. Less bullshit, but still bullshit. It's an idea he's open to anyway.
What he's not open to is the reality of people being inside his head. That's a whole can of worms he never thought he'd open and he doesn't like what it entails. First he finds out he's related to a nutjob and now people are gonna be inside his head?
Still, connections are important. He's lost in every sense of the word. The weight of crystal amulet hangs heavy in his palm, and turns his gaze to look at it, rolls it in his hand this way and that. It's kinda pretty, reminds him of his mom — and with that sobering thought, he closes his fist over it, finds his resolve. ]
So, uh. I was told this lets me talk to people? Like some sort of walkie-talkie?
[ He presses his mouth over his fist as he speak/thinks into the amulet. That's how that works, right? Who knows. God, he looks like an asshole doing this. ]
God, I look like an asshole doing this.
[ Did that project? Oops. ]
prompt d.
[ Well, it's not the worst gig Jake's landed, but it does nothing for his dignity.
He's a pirate. A goddamn pirate. Not a badass pirate, but one of those party store pirates complete with a billowing brocade coat and feather hat.
The sad thing is that he's not even getting paid for this. ]
Dressing me up is one thing, but I'm not going to tell you that I'm here to steal your booty.
[ If he sounds dead inside, that's because he is. ]
prompt e.
A-CHOO!
[ Fuck flowers, seriously. At least it's better than the pirate thing. ]
Christ, sorry. [ A sniff. ] Can you help me pick this up? [ This being the former armful of flowers he picked up before he not-so conveniently sneezed them all away. Thanks for nothing, allergies. ]
jake muller | resident evil
[ Telepathy is bullshit, but considering all the crazy, messed up shit Jake's seen — both before and after coming here, to Verens, apparently, where ever that is — it isn't exactly the most unbelievable thing in the world anymore. Less bullshit, but still bullshit. It's an idea he's open to anyway.
What he's not open to is the reality of people being inside his head. That's a whole can of worms he never thought he'd open and he doesn't like what it entails. First he finds out he's related to a nutjob and now people are gonna be inside his head?
Still, connections are important. He's lost in every sense of the word. The weight of crystal amulet hangs heavy in his palm, and turns his gaze to look at it, rolls it in his hand this way and that. It's kinda pretty, reminds him of his mom — and with that sobering thought, he closes his fist over it, finds his resolve. ]
So, uh. I was told this lets me talk to people? Like some sort of walkie-talkie?
[ He presses his mouth over his fist as he speak/thinks into the amulet. That's how that works, right? Who knows. God, he looks like an asshole doing this. ]
God, I look like an asshole doing this.
[ Did that project? Oops. ]
prompt d.
[ Well, it's not the worst gig Jake's landed, but it does nothing for his dignity.
He's a pirate. A goddamn pirate. Not a badass pirate, but one of those party store pirates complete with a billowing brocade coat and feather hat.
The sad thing is that he's not even getting paid for this. ]
Dressing me up is one thing, but I'm not going to tell you that I'm here to steal your booty.
[ If he sounds dead inside, that's because he is. ]
prompt e.
A-CHOO!
[ Fuck flowers, seriously. At least it's better than the pirate thing. ]
Christ, sorry. [ A sniff. ] Can you help me pick this up? [ This being the former armful of flowers he picked up before he not-so conveniently sneezed them all away. Thanks for nothing, allergies. ]
wild card.
pm me or yolo. either way, go nuts!! 👍