vivicidal | open rp / overflow

Just your casual cult manipulation. I’d say it’s one the easiest forms to prey on people.

I’m not surprised. We will always have the type of curiosity that won’t be able to look away, no matter if the horror is staring right at us. There’s comfort in it, in the already dead, and in knowing what happened to them. Makes it easier to detach for some. We always have to know, even if we don’t want it.

Also… yes and no.

{ It costs him his sanity, but he always gets there. Will might as well be following a red thread, one bloodied and made to have an end somewhere. No matter how long, if he decided to follow it, he could get there. The more direct answer is: }

I can’t see it all, but I can sense it. Eventually. You just have to be a great fisherman, and I happen to be one. However, that does not omit me from falling prey to the same beasts. I often do.

Ahh yes, feeding into Maslow's hierarchy of needs.

A way to confront fear for some while still feeling some level of safety. The psychology behind it is rather interesting, I'm no expert but I dabble from time to time.
A handful of us turned that concept into a sort of competitive game... at one point, I believe someone was keeping track. To this day, I still practice those habits.

[ It's not a lie but he's not exactly providing the whole truth... in reality, the game revolved around committing the perfect murder. ]

I take it that's the reason you're... "taking it easy"?

Preying on the already fallen is weak. Why not go after those that could devour others? It’s not far fetch why I got honey trapped into criminology. I tried being a cop in New Orleans, and that’s some power tripping that is too distasteful. I like to have agency when I can, but not to take it away from those that can’t help their disposition.

Do you still keep in contact with any of them?

{ It could be the swell of righteousness he has left, or that he truly finds the beasts in the woods far more tempting. }

Mostly. Turns out empathizing with killers isn’t a breezy walk in the park. I probably should have read the fine print, but I continue to survive out of spite, for now.

Power is an addiction, really. Like a drug addiction, it activates the same circuitry in the brain. If cults were to recruit other people with power, they could easily threaten their entire regime.

No... most of them are dead now, there was an explosion in a secluded wing. All except one, there's speculation that he rigged the place to blow, but of course, they can't question him because he's missing now. No doubt on the run.

[ There's no sense of mourning behind his words, nor remorse or shame for his involvement. Quite the opposite really, possibly even an overwhelming sense of relief that he wasn't suspected in the least. Dr. Gallo's survival of the explosion worked perfectly in Peter's favor. It was easy to pin it all on him before the vivisection and cremation of his body. It's almost amusing to Peter that law enforcement is still on the lookout for him. ]

For now... what will you do when you can no longer survive?

That's familiar. There's either a sense of quietude or rage in power. Co-dependency is also another means of a weapon, and arguably the actual power once secured. Some animals can't live alone for long, or they die. Humans have this annoying simplicity of eventually requiring company. Some of us just mediate it with seven dogs.

It almost seems ideal for that person to disappear. I can imagine it could be a relief. At least, I'd find it so, to be able to fade in any manner I wanted.

{ He has to think about the question a bit. Inwardly reflect on what he'd answer. His response does take some time, probably an hour later than the last one. It's simple, frustratingly vague, but it encompasses more than he can admit. }

I'd imagine I'll finally fade.

I hoped I was immune to that eventuality, but in light of the fact that I'm considering a feline companion... well. [ Peter doesn't bother finishing his sentence, it's easy enough to construe. ]

True. Especially for someone without any real ties... I don't know enough about his familial relations, but I think it's safe to assume that they were basically non-existent. [ Hell, if he did have family, they certainly didn't come looking or entertain interviews from any news outlets. ] And the only person who maybe gave a shit about him died in the explosion.

[ When the next message appears, Peter narrows his eyes at the screen as he recalls his previous comment. However, the response given is still left wide open to interpretation. ]

Interesting answer.

Ah, and so we all fall eventually. Maybe you’ll end up with quite the bond. They do have that effect.

Maybe he’s dead, maybe not. Familiar or really any connection wouldn’t matter. It happened. More than anything, it’s a rebirth, abide some consider it selfish if done outright, but circumstances do matter. Some people have no choice. Meanwhile, some of us are better left alone in begotten shadows. Still existing, just not at forefront.

{ On occasion, he can give more, so he decides to slightly elaborate, considering he expresses best in feelings more than anything. The kind you can explain, but the source remains flexible to interpret. }

It’s like when people want to flee to Paris. It’s an urge, but many don’t. Nothing deep about it.

Maybe.
In a sense, I suppose I've already fallen if you consider casual sex.
Short-term company?

I'd like to assume he's dead... he is, after all, a narcissistic asshole and I find it hard to believe he'd remain hidden for this long. Any attention even cast in a negative light would've been his downfall. Or perhaps, he's waiting for the perfect opportunity... he does like to make a big show of things.

Based on the little information I know about you, I would count you among the few.

I suppose that’s a way. We all fall in many ways. It depends on what you get out of it. Sex and romance separate for me, so I can see the appeal in temporary fixes. Although, long term ones can be lacking as well. Time isn’t a factor. I’m not sure I’m capable of forming a full bond, but I’m still particular on who I let into my bed.

{ It’s all half truths, but he settles for them. }

Peacocks. Eventually they have to spread those feathers. I’m trying to move away from that. Makes it better to not think about them. Burn the letters, or burn their memory from your mind. I don’t know. I find making a show without substance to be irrelevant. Irrelevancy ends narcissists.

Possibly. I did sail my boat for months out in the ocean. It was freeing enough.

For me as well. In the end, all I really get out of it is a carefree, superficial connection through substantial and gratifying physicality. I had my chance at a once-in-a-lifetime romance, it ran its course. [ If he was honest with himself, he would probably realize it was a form of compulsive avoidance. ] High standards or what? What does the elusive Will look for?

You are right about that... I'll have to work on it.

[ However, it was difficult for Peter to move past hating a man that was already dead. Before his death, Gallo targeted his fiancée in retaliation. It was a messy revenge-fest, but eventually ended... mostly in Peter's favor. ]

Next time, consider taking me with you.

That is the ideal. It’s not that I have high standards. I really don’t. I can’t truly have superficial, even if it’s one night. I will always feel something stacked and not mine. It’s a deep glimpse of someone without the full picture. So really, it depends on how masochist I am, since I tend to attract the kind to induce it. Although, I can get a nice person. I’m not allergic to them.

{ More poor jokes. He knows it sounds bizarre. How else can he even describe empathetic sex? Or really how he’s had it. It’s not something he has even bothered to try and figure out. He just lets it happen. Sex is manageable, a grasp of control, since he gets a choice to partake. Meanwhile, relationships mean he’s not sure how long he’d last. No one else can see him how Hannibal has done, or so he believes. Was it a dark romantic? Erotic? Fucked? It was something, and it left him more scorned. }

I’m capable of being wrong. I have been. Only time will tell.

It really is stunning, especially at night. I have been rebuilding another boat, but when it’s done, you’re welcome to join me for a ride. You have to try it before you decide if you like it.

Oh. Truthfully, I understand the concept more than the average person. Superficial to an extent, yes, but I wasn't about to try and describe that one. From personal experience, I find it easier not to get into those details.

[ He knows exactly how bizarre it sounds - in his particular case, in order to learn how to control his power to recall, he also had to learn how to tune certain things out. He doesn't quite have the same issue anymore, but that doesn't exactly make him immune. ]

I mean it makes perfect sense. I just need to get into that headspace.

Without light pollution, I imagine so. I've been in the city far too long. A test ride is preferable, it has been more than a few years since I last out on the ocean.

Understandable. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I do tend to overshare sometimes. Comes with years of having to foretell the details of others.

{ To an extent he cherry picks what to share. His range is from reserved to widely open. After all, his imaginative imagery is what shapes his obscene world, and colors only bleed continuously as he can’t forget. Most people will be put off, even by the slight of a short comment. It’s less subtle now, but it’s still a way to be off putting. Yet, he continues to seek. Unbeknownst, he really is full of contradictions. }

All I can give is a good luck to that.

It’s incredible. You have to trust your senses for the first hour, adjust to the darkness. Once you do, it’s a whole other view. From the sky to the sounds. It’s my preferred time. Did you enjoy the ocean back then?

Not exactly what I meant but that's fine. I really don't think you could make me feel uncomfortable even if you tried, but I've been wrong before. Or maybe 'uncomfortable' isn't quite the word I would use, I'm not sure.

Much needed, truthfully.

I did enjoy it, I was fairly young. The first time out was in my mid-teens, there was definitely a bit of motion sickness for the first while but I eventually got used to it. The sky is what I look forward to the most, it's just not the same no matter where I go on land.

Oh? Well, the format does make it easy to misinterpret, or even miss expressiveness that otherwise fill the silences. I do still prefer it. It's the closest I get to not having any means of influence. It's alright, I've been called everything under the sun. Nothing phases me anymore, or maybe it never did.

You do adapt. It's all I knew for the longest time. No choice when you have a single parent. You do everything they do. It's still the only way I can find what is considered peace.

I'm right there with you on preference. As for influence, well, it can definitely take its toll and I certainly enjoy my freedom from it... [ But it also serves to form and maintain his mask. ]

Thick-skinned, then. If nothing phases you, did anything at least amuse you?

How do you mean? Frequent visits, or did you live on a houseboat?

Who wouldn’t want to be free of influence? Not many can achieve it. If you value it, then you might be one of few.

In a way. Besides always being called mentally unstable, a kicked puppy, or a disguised killer? I suppose ‘murder husband’. That I would run off to Europe and commit a romantic murder spree. Lounds, and most, certainly saw lots of potential in me.

{ It might be closest to a fragment of the truth. Will was willing to run away that night, and he’s left with the weight of a what if. }

Close. I grew up in poverty. Hotels, run down apartments, and boats. What we could find while money was scrapped at ports. Did you have a clutch as a child?

In certain circumstances, and if manipulated properly, it can be quite advantageous. Especially when you need to blend in.

A romantic murder spree in Europe? Thank you for fleshing out new visuals I didn't know I needed, my life is renewed. I have to admit, 'murder husband' has a nice ring to it... just don't end up on killer couples, I beg of you.

[ All in jest while his fragmented truth remains hidden within tales. ]

Hmm, seems the lack of choice lies within impermanence. But I wouldn't know, I didn't grow up with a single parent. Mornings, before dawn, while everyone was still asleep... that was my peace.

I know a bit about blending in. I’ll have to keep that in mind.

Please, I’d have the decency to not get caught. Being framed doesn’t count. All this knowledge would be put to waste and I’d truly be a joke. Picking someone is the tricky part. A partner, I mean. Preferably someone that won’t try and eat me.

{ Of course his poor humor rears again. He knows Hannibal would have regretted consuming him. In exchange, Will also would have regretted killing him if he had succeeded. Choices. }

And somewhere along the innocence was lost. Better off. I can see the appeal. Only the chirping birds would be witness to your peace. I’ve only ever been up that early when I had classes to teach. Otherwise, it’s a few hours earlier that I peak.

Best to start with individuals who don't already know your reputation. Then gradually introduce the well-practiced facade for a seamless blend.

I can see the headlines now, 'A Murder Spree to Remember'. Knowledge is one thing, implementing that knowledge is something else... but consider adding me to that list, I can say for certain that devouring you would be a shame. With your knowledge and my work with cadavers, I'm sure we'd be a force to be reckoned with.

[ The continued poor humor remains prevalent, however, there's a slight edge of sincerity just below the surface. He's worked alongside five other individuals to commit the perfect undetectable murder. However, when he caught several of them intertwined in lies, Peter inevitably killed them all; four by fire and the fifth... far more gruesome and worthy of such a death. ]

I have to agree with you there. I still wake before dawn, it's habitual now, engrained for years even after my escape.

That would require me to move. I do like where I am now. No one usually bothers the guy living out in the middle of the woods. Maybe I should try somewhere else for a bit.

You mean all the true crime fanatics will flock to those sensations, twist what is from flesh and bone into romanticism. It also depends, are you the sort to want people to see the artistry? Will you hunt the unforgettable? The outliers, perhaps? Or will you let them see? Skills are skills, but without a fortified foundation, betrayal wrings necks. That said, you’re welcomed to try on the list.

{ It might be that he is tried or he’s truly found a way to avoid floating aimlessly. Will is never sure, but what he knows is that he’s forgiven the unforgivable. No one forced him to be nestled in dark corners, reaching out from the shadows to try and find someone that understood. It was the betrayal he couldn’t handle. Who can? }

Habits. You forge them and they are difficult to unwind. If there’s something I appreciate, it’s patterns. I like knowing the sun will always come out every day.

It's not impossible. It may not be as seamless... but that also depends on your approach.

[ 'You guys want the truth, or just something clever? Truth is, you're all full of shit. Who needs a motive? Who needs a reason to kill? Just today, I opened a 16-year-old boy who was shot in the chest because someone wanted his fucking iPhone. What kind of reason is that? We're animals, it's in our nature to kill. Basic. Simple. You should've all figured that out by now. Of course, we're civilized, we socialize. We sit around and talk about it over a beer, we don't actually do it. If we could really get away with it? Kill anyone? Anyone at all?

Kill anyone. Anyone at all.'

Words that lead him astray on a winding path enmeshed in deceit and betrayal. Will is right about fortified foundations... a mistake he'll never make again. ]

Almost sounds like you speak from experience.

It's the best part of the day. Quiet, peaceful, beautiful. Every morning, I brew a hot cup of coffee and relax on the deck while the sun rises.

Seems like intervals. By all means, if you have approaches, slip them into my mailbox.

{ Always partly joking with syringes puncturing in truth. His appetite is tied to those that know where to look, in the places that often repulse. Most of the time he's okay when his boundaries are not tested, when they are not provoked. However, there are moments when he's reminded that he is the mongoose that is trapped underneath his house when the snakes slither by. He's been marked, purified not by the holy water people seek, but the blood washed ashore from what he's seen. He can only adapt, watch others with sonder, but when will it not be enough?

For now, he controls what he can. It means fixating on the way he breaths, on the tension always lining his muscles. He's hyper aware of surroundings, making sure his dogs are okay, and that he's grounded to the last level of his house where he can see if someone were to intrude. }

I could be speaking of others. It's how this works. Some of it is mine, and some of it is someone else. Truth is, I don't often know what is mine to feel. Just scratched record nonsense.

The Egyptian god, Ra, not only became the sun, but also represented renewal and creation. It's good you find comfort in your quietude.

Intervals, filtering, take one aspect at a time. You'll do fine.

Ahh, I see why you were framed in the first place. You're an easy target. Haven't learned how to ground yourself yet?

Do you in yours?

Yeah, I suppose so. We're all fine in the end. Have enough scars to prove that.

It wasn't that I was easy, it was that I chose to truly feel for once, and I did. However, we evolve and become. If I have grounded myself now, that's a bit personal. I've certainly found something on the horizon.

Not yet, but maybe one day.

open rp / overflow

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but perhaps we can bring this one to an end

wrap it up in a lovely coffin