but my stockholm syndrome is in your room - dump

[scully.]

[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; width: 450px;"]new dump bc i'm crisising!!
i just kinda shit post and beg for connections here, feel free to track, plot, & chat here.
also, here's my character discord!

[marsy]

trick track (;

[scully.]

welcome welcome!!

[finny.]

trick track (;

[phantomatics]

tacking ~

[scully.]

[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; width: 450px;"]muse: emerson beatrix reign
trigger warnings: violence & blood

the driver had dropped her off on the wrong street, but emerson knew it’d take far too long if she were to call him back as she stood, watching the limo fight through the new york traffic. biting her lip, she checks her phone for the time, she’s meant to attending a meeting with a possible buyer with her boss at her internship. she only has five minutes and she believes the restaurant is on the other side of the block. being able to attend this meeting was a huge opportunity, therefore she couldn’t be late. she knew she could make it, but she’d be cutting it close and that could make a bad impression, so she figures she can find an alley to cut through and make it with a minute or so to spare.
her heels click on the asphalt lightly and her left elbow is bent, a black givenchy bag hanging from her arm. emerson turns a corner into the first alley she comes across and instantly she can see the restaurant directly across the street. a closed-lip grin spreads across her delicate face, happy with herself and confident the outcome of the business dinner would be just as she planned.
she’s just halfway through when a man jumps out in front of her, causing her to jump as well. ”what the hell are you doing?” she demands, face scrunched and her hands in small fists. he doesn’t respond, simply goes for her bag. ”hey!” emerson yells as she fights with him for a few moments. the man elbows her in the face, but she manages to hold onto the bag.
”do you know who i fucking am?!? i’m emerson reign and i’ll have you-“ she stops, feeling something being shoved into the right side of her rib cage. the man takes a step back, her bag and a bloodied knife in hand. her hand had gone to the wound instinctually and she slowly looked down at it then pulled her hand away. emerson’s hand shakes and blood covers it. she slowly looks back up at the man, a look of absolute shock and horror on her face. he looks at her for a moment then drops the knife and runs.
everything is twisting and blurry as emerson stumbles back some. she gulps, closing her eyes tightly, then opening them and finding the same vision. she blinks quickly, in short bursts, trying to see better. tears spill out of her eyes from pain as she hits a side of a building and crumbles to the ground, hand pressed firmly on her side. emerson gathers her last bit of strength, ”help..” she calls before weakly coughing. a figure comes into her view, she can’t make out any of its features, but she can tell it’s a person. “hey, it’s alright, i’m calling the police. stay with me, okay?” the words echo in her ears as she’s pulled into unconsciousness.

[scully.]

hi phanto!!
u came just in time for the angst

[marsy]

[phantomatics]

oh great!!! thanks

[scully.]

[align=center][div style="background=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; font-size: 12px; text-align: justify; width: 450px;"]muse: chase eleanor york
trigger warnings: panic attacks, drinking, abuse

chase holds two leashes in her right hand and the other in her left. she’s smiling lightly, round, yellow sunglasses are perched on the bridge of her nose as the sun is setting. the three dogs walk relatively controlled from the work she’d put into them. their walks were a quiet time for chase, a time for her to just be out in the world and while there were always other people milling around the streets, it didn’t bother her; this probably came from her preference for the city. usually she walked with luka, but he was in an editing cave, so she just took the dogs herself.
they round the corner of her apartment building and start walking through the parking lot. a man in a casual jacket is standing a little ways in front of her and looking around, but she doesn’t think it’s that strange. once he spots her, the man starts moving that way, making chase uneasy. she gulps and tightens her grip on the leashes, moving closer to the building. “excuse me,” he calls out to her. chase glances over to him, jaw clenched tightly, ”no thank you,” she says in an attempt to dismiss him, believing he’s wanting to sell her something.
“no, no, no. you’re chase, right?” he pauses and takes a moment to look at her as he gets closer, an almost nostalgic look upon his face. she doesn’t have an idea of how to respond and feels frozen.
“it’s me... i’m your dad,”
chase’s jaw drops slightly and she quickly shakes her head. ”w-why are you here?” she stammered weakly, feeling the tears form in her eyes. “i know leaving was the worst thing i could’ve done, but you have to understand,” he looks down, “i wanna tru to be in your life,” he adds, now trying to make eye contact but chase can’t. she’s only able to shake her head more as a panic sets in. she pushes past him and her dogs follow, flight was kicking in and she needed to get into her apartment. the man calls for her and follows, trying to get her to stop; chase frantically makes her way up the stairs, tripping while she fumbled around with her keys. the dogs start to growl at her father before she’s able to pull them inside and lock the door. quick, shallow breaths rake through her chest, sinking to the ground. her dad hits the door, she can hear and feel it, causing her to let out a small yell and sets the dogs off barking.
chase’s taken back to the day he left. there was yelling and some crashing, but she was used to that. she always hid in a spot in her closet, just large enough to slip into and wait for the coast to clear. the front door slammed, something new. she waited that night.
she waited for him to come back, to march in the door and save her and her mom like the superhero she saw him as, but it never happened; she never even heard from him again.
chase hid her mom’s bottles once. she came ripping into her room at god knows what time, screaming about them being missing. she yanked chase out of her bed by her hair, demanding that chase tell her where they were. chase was crying, she had never felt such a deep fear before. pulling chase to her feet, still by her hair, she screamed again, “where the fuck did you hide my vodka!?” the potent stench of alcohol from her breath smacking the little girl in the face. nodding her head, agreeing to show her where it was, willing to do anything to get out of the situation. she pulled the bottle out of the space in her closet where she usually hid. her mom pulled the bottle out of her small hand, making chase lose her balance and fall, hitting her cheek on the edge of her bed as she went down. her mother left the room, slamming the door behind her. chase cried for her dad that night, asking why he left her there.