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Jun 27, 2019 19:40:30 GMT
Post by terrorbyte on Jun 27, 2019 19:40:30 GMT
Bobby Drake I sin but I've paid more than ten thousand graves Bobby said very little. In fact he just seemed to sit there and stare out the window after the somewhat surprising accusation. Bobby didn't confirm nor deny her suspcions by giving her something to think about. Instead his gaze lingered just beyond the edge of the road, the place where the night and darkness took claim.
It wasn't that he didn't have anything to say. There were things on his mind, Not more accusations, but almost curiosity driven interest. She was here, alone on this god forsaken stretch. Far from any home one might imagine anywhere close and yet... She seemed content with the solitude up until the point she threw better judgment out the window and picked up a dangerous stranger.
"Where is logic and reason when solitude and isolation greet you with a familiar icy grip? Where is safety and sanity when madness touches upon thy lips and you find the taste sweet to the senses? Where might you find these most limited of resources? Why right here...." He said, patting his hand against his heart. Bobby took his time and looked at her for a long moment before speaking again. She probably thought him mad. Judging from her expression he couldn't tell if she recognized the quote. "Billy Fillamond- Journey to the heart of self discovery. Obscure references aside I do appreciate the ride."
That part was not a lie. "I teach creative writing, back home. Poetry mostly. You could say that i have a way with words and how to use them to my advantage." A sly smile crept across his face. A way with words and how to use them. Like talking an unsuspecting woman into giving him a ride. "I don't bite. I promise." He said in a very untrusting tone of voice. He was starting to get hungry. More than that he was down right ravenous. He had made up his mind while riding quietly for a few miles in the passenger's seat that he would throw out a few innocent vague threats and see if any of them got her fear rising.
She was so beautiful. Skin nearly flawless and the purest raven hair. Though the stench of her confidence was maddening. He remained cryptic, puzzling. She wouldn't shake so easily. Though if he could just get a whiff. Bobby closed his eyes and breathed deeply without drawing attention to it. He played it off as a sigh and leaned his head out the window. Staring back at the empty void of open space. Though the reflection on the glass close to his face was wearing a smile. Yes, she smelled a little better. Let the doubt seep down into the cracks. Keep her riding on the edge of a pin needle and when she was good and scared maybe he wouldn't starve to death.
It would leave her dead and without an essence, or aura when he was through with her, but beauty had to be sacrificed sometimes. She was stupid enough to pick him up in the first place. He hadn't eaten in 2 days if you don't count the cop asshole he immediately threw back up. Bobby could feel his taste buds biting at the inside of his jaw. Soon he thought. " Going to take a bit of a nap. Don't wake me!" He urged her turning his back on her and allowing her time to sit and think about what a mistake she had made. Bobby discretely pressed the door to locked on his side and out of the corner of his eye watched her in the window's reflection. Waiting for the fear to take control. [googlefont="Oswald"] |
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Jun 16, 2019 23:30:38 GMT
Post by terrorbyte on Jun 16, 2019 23:30:38 GMT
Bobby Drake I sin but I've paid more than ten thousand graves Climbing into the passenger's seat Bobby made himself comfortable. "Bobby." He admitted with a quiet smile and a light blush. Pantamime and theatrics. He adjusted the gold wedding band on his finger. He had expertly taken it from the dead sheriff's hand. Wedding rings made people think you were more trustworthy than you were. A symbol of hope and a practice of foolishness.
His eyebrow did raise a bit when she said you never knew what dangerous folks might be lurking. "I might be dangerous myself." He chuckled and played it off as a laugh. Bobby reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out two crisp, neatly folded $20 bills. He handed it too her with the form and nonchalance as if he had owed it too her. "For the gas." He added.
There was a brisk meaningful smile to his lips. The sort of mystery that only deepened the more you looked at it. He was on the surface everything you would expect from a small town country boy meaning to find his way back home. Dig a little deeper and you would see the rotten roots of his twisted family tree. But his family was not here. No one was, except for the two of them and when she finished pumping her gas Bobby smiled at her return.
He had taken the time that she had gone inside to rifle through her glovebox. He found a registration to someone not named Kiara. Don Fitzpatrick in fact. Whoever that was. He could see the missing panel under the steering column, though he would continue to pretend he hadn't realized this car was stolen. By the end of it all Bobby had put everything back in order just as she opened the door and found him sitting there quietly. "The other twenty was for snacks, did'ga get any?"
Bobby couldn't eat snacks. In fact his stomach hungered for something more emotional, fleeting and panicky. But a deep breath of her vile stench told him she wouldn't be his feast. God, her aura, her will and determination was sickening. He could tell her strong personality just by the scent of her skin. A light sheen of sweat coated her skin and it was uncomfortably warm inside the... Van? A nice big roomie back equip with a mattress and some seats. A 70's hippie bus for sure, but it didn't suit her style. It seemed more like something a guy named Don Fitzpatrick might be into.
Bobby adjusted himself in his seat and fiddled with the air conditioning vent. He was already getting hot even though he was soaking wet. It was like boiling in a pot. "It hot in here to you?" He asked banging his palm against the vent a few times until the vent unclogged and shot out cool air. Much better. Bobby hadn't considered the temperature was not entirely natural. He had no reason to suspect that his fellow traveler was more dangerous than he could have imagined.
A family of murders and a dangerous prey. What could be more striking? Bobby kept his eyes out the passenger's window as they pulled away. It wasn't until they were a good bit down the road until he turned and looked at her. "Just how full of shit are you?" He asked unexpectedly. There was an acusational tone to his voice but there was still a smile playing at his charming face. [googlefont="Oswald"] |
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Jun 13, 2019 17:48:31 GMT
Post by terrorbyte on Jun 13, 2019 17:48:31 GMT
Bobby Drake I sin but I've paid more than ten thousand graves If you said there would be a time when monsters didn't exist, I would call you a liar or a fool. Monsters do exist. They are very much real. They are flesh and blood and weakness, and they exist in every one of us. Some of us let our monsters out a little bit more frequently, but they are all there. Lying in wait like the bastard of a secret you wish you could desperately contain. The faucet to the sink ran without supervision. Bobby leaned over the toilet and released what little he had eaten back into the toilet. Fuck.
They always tasted so bad when they suffered from anxiety. Fear, from a panic attack tasted sour. It wasn't pure fear. It was chemical imbalance and it tasted like shit. Especially when the sorry asshole tried to medicate the problem away. "Oh, you miserable prick!" Bobby groaned. Between his feet on the dirty truck stop bathroom floor was a body. A twitching, yet dead fresh corpse. Bobby didn't know he was a sufferer of panic attacks and anxiety. Needless to say he was starving now. Thanks to deputy dipshit and his shiny star badge.
Blood dripped across the tile. It moved slowly down the side of the slightly slanted floor into a crack in the baseboard. From there it broke off at a right angle and traveled along the wall. Bobby didn't take heed of this. The blood on his face, speckled and everywhere stung at his eyes as he breathed heavily. Here comes the next wave. Bobby's stomach twisted in a tight knot as more medicated anxiety fear spilled out of his lips as black bubbling bile. It burned as it came out. Smoke rose up from the spewage pot in front of him.
Small tendrils of smoke spilled off his burning wet lips as he shook violently. The sad part was there was no way of knowing if someone had anxiety. He did not sense it, it was a roll of the dice. A gamble and with 9/11, terrorism, global warming and about a billion other crises being medicated wasn't even a rare occurrence. Bobby wiped his lips and stood up on shaky legs. Moving over to the sink with the still running water He splashed some in his face. He did the best he could to get the blood off of his face. He had to loose his over shirt entirely because it was just too completely drenched in blood.
It always got messy in the end. Syphoning off fear was bloody disgusting. It sort of looked like you were ripping someone's soul out of their face. Blurry, distorted, And all too entirely ghastly. Like TV static snow hazing across a broken screen. Their fears faded in and out... Blinking too and from reality as he inhaled it or licked it off. In the end pours and blood vessels exploded. Nerve endings overloaded and fried themselves. It was traumatically painful...For the victim at least.
Bobby looked back at his last meal. His face was stretched out and horrified. Twisted into supernatually unnatural expression. His eyes wide and almost popping out of his head as his jaw was practically dislocated it had stretched so far in the screaming final moments. His whole body had a pale, waxy quality to him. Bobby sighed. He didn't really enjoy the killing. In fact, it made him sick. Sicker than this actually. He had to kill. He had to eat. He didn't hate killing enough to give up living in it's place. He was just selfish that way. He didn't ask to be born like this. With these cursed powers. This terrible affliction.
Bobby looked back into the dirty stained mirror and hated what he saw looking back at himself, but at least he was clean. He didn't see any signs of blood on his person. The man on the floor, the sheriff's deputy had blood everywhere from where he was partially eaten. But not in a physical sense. Bobby never took a bite out of flesh, not unless he was truly, truly hungry, but the exploding pours and blood vessels had left enough of a mess. Imagine microwaving a balloon filled with red dye. Bobby left the bathroom after taking one last look at his carnage and stepped out into the pouring rain.
Thunder and lightening claimed the skys. The downpour had him soaked to the skin. His black wife beater tank top hugged his finely chiseled muscles, flattening his hair and making his shoes squish as he ran across the gas station parking lot. He took shelter by the pumps. This late the place was all but deserted. He glanced at the sheriff's car sitting there with the lights still blarring blue and red, and figured he didn't want to be caught by a security camera stealing the cops car; when the body was inevitably found later. That was when a car pulled up to the pump.
Bobby was desperate. So much in fact he would offer this stranger what was needed to secure a ride out of town. Bobby walked up to the car. He had a backpack over his hunky shoulder and a friendly smile on his face. As she got out to pump the gas he noted that she smelled terrible. Not because she was oderous mind you, but because she had a strong will and a strong confident personality.
The weak scaredy cats were the ones he found to smell the best. She had to much promise of greatness for him to find it anything other than disgustingly putrid. "Uh... Scuse'me miss. I reckon it's a might inconvient, and a hell of alot shadier than you'd like, but iff'n you wouldn't mind I could sure use a lift to Kentucky. Take me as far as you can and I'll pay for gas an snacks along the way. Sorta stranded here. I'm hoping that my guardian angel just showed up is all..."
Bobby had a very southern country boy way of talking. He was a southern country boy at heart and it showed. He was trying to get back to Kentucky. To his family. He had made off on his own not wanting to be a burden to Mother anymore, but he realized how much he needed the call of family and the safety of familiar. He didn't like this world on his own. The things he had to do... Well, it was downright distasteful. Bobby offered Kiara his nicest smile and his deep dark brown eyes softened at her expression. He was starving, and she wasn't going to be his next meal. At least he didn't think so. She seemed to strong of a woman, but he had to put distance between him and this fuckup. He could worry about what he'd eat later. [googlefont="Oswald"] |
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Jun 10, 2019 16:08:35 GMT
Post by terrorbyte on Jun 10, 2019 16:08:35 GMT
x Bobby Drake Dexter NAME. Bobby Drake Dexter
NICKNAME. Terror-Byte
AGE. 29
MEMBER GROUP. mutant
GENDER. male
SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Straight
POWER: Eats fear
STRENGTHS:. Bobby feeds on fear the more scared you are the more powerful he becomes after feeding. Fear is in its purest form right before someone dies. Bobby absorbs the fear in a few different ways. He can lick it off your skin, breathe it in or bite it out of you with a cannibalistic mouthful. When eating fear Bobby gains vitality. For a while after eating he becomes super focused. His mind becomes enriched and he can think more effectivly and clearly. He also maintains youth through eating fear. Retainin his handsome good looks through constant eating. Essentiall, as long as he eats.... He doesnt age.
BObby has the ability to cause hallucinations. The more fear drifting off his victim... The more powerful the hallucinations. Likewise the more fear Bobby has already ingested... The more detailed his hallucinations become. Bobby casts hallucinations that can be seen by anyone he is focused on. To do so he has to focus on one person at a time he can focus on more than one person and split his hallucinations though splitting his Focus between multiple people will cause his Illusions to be less effective.
WEAKNESS: Bobby has to eat in order to use his abilities probably can only eat fear. Normal food will cause them to become violently ill. the sweetest tasting fear comes from women. Bobby's metabolism Works different than normal people's if he doesn't eat for 3 days he begins to wither away. physically and mentally. It has been a while since he of eating Bobby's thoughts become clouded in unclear he has trouble focusing on anything as if he is suffering from attention deficit disorder
FACE CLAIM. Johnny Depp
HEIGHT. 6'0
WEIGHT. 231
IDENTIFYING FEATURES. None
OVERALL. Hard working ususally seen with dirty oil stained clothes and dirty jeans. Bobby Drake usually wears a trucker cap backwards POSITIVE TRAITS. Patient methodical charming witty
NEGATIVE TRAITS. Cold ruthless glutinous violent
OVERALL. Bobby Drake is a cold and calculating man he usually serves his own purpose in the purpose of his family not really caring much for his victims he doesn't feel much empathy or sympathy for them after all a man's got to eat
FATHER. ?
MOTHER. Delilah Dexter
SIBLINGS. Melvin Dexter, Rory Dexter,
OTHER FAMILY. Nanna (Betty Dexter)
HOMETOW. Lexington Kentucky
OVERALL. has a baby Bobby almost didn't make it for the first 3 days when he was home with his new mother Delilah he didn't eat every time she tried to feed him he got violently sick it wasn't until she started to really get worried that he stopped crying the more worried she got about her son who is turning blue the more he seemed content Finally he had to have his diaper changed even though he hadn't eaten anything in 3 days Delilah a very intelligent woman realize that he was a mutant she realized that he was feeding off of her fear.
like most of the rest of his family Bobby is a serial killer he doesn't necessarily enjoy the killing as much as he needs to kill he is biologically programmed to be a killer from day one everything about his ability makes him a murderer everything about his ability makes him a survival this without fear without victims Bobby cannot exist
NAME. what we should call you
AGE. if you want
EXPERIENCE. how long have you been rping |
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we have members eager to meet you
