Be Mine the Doom [doug]

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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murk

Not-Chryssa
She/Her
27
May 1
Eterna City, Sinnoh
Panromantic
radio host
agent
as flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport
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chryssa glasgow
Be Mine the Doom [doug]
POSTED ON Feb 17, 2021 7:10:18 GMT
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Dawn.

“Are you cold?” Chryssa asked, looking smug and well-rested. 

She stood with one foot upon a picnic basket, a warm, Eiscue-shaped knit hat pulled snugly over her ears. A scarf was wrapped securely around her neck, but it was impossible to hide the white plastic which cradled her head like a vase filled with flowers.

“I hope you’re a morning person. I’ve taken the liberty of preparing breakfast,” she said, gesturing towards her footrest. Her eyes glinted. “If you can stomach it, that is. How comfortable are you with flying, Shadow Hive King?”

Though light, her tone implied he didn’t actually have a choice. He’d come here, after all. It had been a long time since their last “real date.”

Behind her was a large purple shape with a fluffy white topknot, rotating slowly in place. Rings of yellow pampas grass rippled from the ghost-type, centralized on a large wicker basket in the middle of the clearing.

It also had the effect of making Chryssa’s hair and skirts billow magnificently, which was no accident. She wasn’t bothered by the cold winds— she’d worn warm leggings for the occasion. 

“I hope you’re prepared,” she said coyly, narrowing her eyes. “After all, who knows what might happen once we’re up there?”

Only Arceus knew.



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Epic BugCatcher

Dr. Doug
He/Him
20 (40)
March 3
Viridian City, Kanto
It just works
Lt. Colonel, Medical Corps
AQUA Initiative
Playing hard to get
With a time traveler
5' 11" (181 cm) / 180 lbs (82 kg) height
5' 11" (181 cm) / 180 lbs (82 kg) height
You're being healed. Please do not resist.
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John Sullivan
Be Mine the Doom [doug]
POSTED ON Feb 18, 2021 1:27:51 GMT
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A foot came down upon the basket, right besides her own.

"Sure am." Grunted a tired looking Doug despite his jacket, stretching his arms above his head to the tune of his spine's several pops, the weight of a peculiarly shaped pack resting comfortably upon his back.

Despite not having gotten a wink (hah) of sleep in the past several days, he felt a rush of energy rocking his system just from looking at Chryssa.

Letting his limbs flop down to his hips, the King of the Hive grinned at the Empress and spread his arms wide.

"Gonna do somethin' 'bout it?" He asked, his grin taking on a teasing quality as he tilted his head.

Maybe it was happiness at seeing her out of that stuffy hospital room and being her usual self, even with that white cuff still strapped to her neck... But he was feeling rather bold as well.

It probably was an outage of frontal cortex power due to lack of sleep, though.

"I am a soldier, ya know. Gettin' up at the crack o'dawn is kinda our thin'." He said with light bags under his eyes like a hypocrite, bringing a finger to his cheek and looking aside as if in thought, tapping against it slowly.

He looked around her (a very impressive feat) towards her Drifblim, presumably their transport.

"Never had breakfast in the sky... Testing yer allies already, ya fiendish femme fatale?" He said, sticking his tongue out at her as he crossed his arms and hummed in thought, before leaning forward.

"Awright." He said, bending down to pick up the basket. "If ya made the food yourself, it's worth a test or a dozen."

Perhaps she didn't know it... but eating food from the girl you liked was a pretty big deal in Kanto.

That said, he almost dropped the basket with her next words.

Eyes wide, he only barely managed to catch it in the nick of time before slowly rising up to his full height, blinking at her. He almost couldn't look her in the eye. Almost.

Through what could only be described as an act of pure will power, the youth managed to pat her hat with his free hand, huffing.

"Ya realize you are the one lookin' all pretty 'ere."

Basket in elbow and very red in the cheeks, the youth managed to smile rather pleasantly all the same, winking teasingly despite the flush.

"And as I recall... I've already taken yer virtue, stained yer family name, and dragged ya into my lair like a caveman." He said as he offered his hand towards her, managing to shake off his nerves. "Are you prepared?"



Original Luffy Art by @champourado
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murk

Not-Chryssa
She/Her
27
May 1
Eterna City, Sinnoh
Panromantic
radio host
agent
as flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport
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chryssa glasgow
Be Mine the Doom [doug]
POSTED ON Feb 23, 2021 13:11:28 GMT
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She teetered for a moment when Doug scooped up her precarious footrest, then seamlessly caught onto his proffered arm to stabilize herself as if nothing had happened. “Not my cooking. This simple fare was prepared by my minions,” she said airily, not wanting to mislead him. “...That said, hopefully it’s still good.” 

She actually laughed when he tallied up his current list of ‘conquests’ (as Chryssa had phrased them) so far. “Precisely,” she said, “So honestly, what more can you do to me?”

Maybe she meant it like emphasis, but it sounded like a challenge.

Despite appearances, Chryssa had not actually called Doug here for a salacious hot air balloon ride. The only hint to her real agenda was the wide-brimmed straw hat pinned to the side of the basket, fluttering slightly in the Ominous Wind as they approached.

“I spent some time repairing it in the hospital,” she said lightly. “I was going to wear it to meet you, but it’s colder out this morning than I expected.” The blackened places where embers had eaten through the straw had been trimmed away, replaced by colorful sewn patches of plaid and checkered fabric. That part had been Chryssa’s personal work—it wasn’t exactly something you could get done at the local deli. Plus, I had plenty of time. She’d never been taught to cook, but sewing was somewhat of an idle hobby for her.

If Doug examined it, he’d find it clean, smelling of antiseptic, and empty.

Relying on the bug catcher’s help, Chryssa climbed into the basket, stomping experimentally to test the strength of the wicker bottom. “Seems flammable,” she said thoughtfully and offered no other explanation, “Well, I’m ready whenever you are. Any last regrets? Farewells to the world below, before we ascend?”

She actually waited (in case he did— she was half-serious, as always) before she inhaled, spread her arms, and called “Take us up, Beagan! Away from this prison— to wherever the winds may take us!”

The waves of Ominous Wind increased and the grasses flattened in a wider circle around them, scythed by the surge of ghostly energy. Uneasy humming filled the air and the balloon’s long arms snaked down to seize the handles of the basket, flattened yellow fingers curling around each handle and pulling taut. Then, the Drifblim pulled. 

Stiffening, Chryssa grabbed onto Doug, feeling a sharp stab of discomfort in her neck as the basket bumped jarringly once, twice against the ground. Ouch. She held onto her Eiscue hat with one hand, trusting the Drifblim implicitly to carry the two of them as it had carried her on her own so many times.

And then they were rising, smooth and stable, and the misty world slowly fell away.

Chryssa let out her breath.

“I suppose that’s how crop circles are made.”



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Epic BugCatcher

Dr. Doug
He/Him
20 (40)
March 3
Viridian City, Kanto
It just works
Lt. Colonel, Medical Corps
AQUA Initiative
Playing hard to get
With a time traveler
5' 11" (181 cm) / 180 lbs (82 kg) height
5' 11" (181 cm) / 180 lbs (82 kg) height
You're being healed. Please do not resist.
awards
2,831 posts
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John Sullivan
Be Mine the Doom [doug]
POSTED ON Feb 25, 2021 1:15:39 GMT
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Her laugh drew warmth to the the youth's cheeks, and it stayed even as she all but challenged him to one up himself.

Challenge accepted.

He had intended to sweep her off her feet anyway. Figuratively this time. Promise.

... Okay, no promises.

As Chryssa teetered, yet grasped his hand with ease, the crunch of grass could be heard as Doug let go of the basket and stepped closer, wrapping his other arm around her waist to support her further.

"I've barely even gotten started, Empress." He said, letting a grin tentatively adorn his lips. "I've let far too many chances to do so much worse fly right past me."

Holding her as he was, the first such instance that came to mind couldn't be any other than...

"Just think about all of your Ranger peers, witnessing the Empress waltz with some unknown, uninvited Rogue; at her own reception, no less!" He said as they swayed with the ominous breeze, leaning closer with a teasing smile. "Scandalous."

He had chickened out from requesting a dance, however brief, then. He had regretted it as soon as the reception was over.

He entertained the thought of asking for it now, songless and all, but quelled his desire with a single spin instead.

Some other day, when he could be certain he wouldn't hurt her by doing so, he would make his own second chance.

"Oh well. My loss." Picking back up the basket, he walked with Chryssa towards the Drifblim that awaited. Naturally, his gaze was drawn towards the familiar sight that was...

His? Hers? Their Straw hat.

Only the fact that he was holding her hand in one hand and the basket in the other kept him from running ahead towards it. Still, his excitement was only barely contained.

"Hoh...? Oh! Hoooh!?" He uttered excitedly as they came within arm's reach of it, the basket jostling slightly as he grasped the hat and brought it closer so they could examine her handywork together.

"Wha-! How did you...? Jesse James, it's so pretty now!" He said with a full smile, spinning the hat around to get a good look at all angles before laughing delightedly. "So this is your handywork, huh? Chryssa, I love it! Yer the best!"

He smiled wide as he balanced the hat on his finger by the brim, spinning it about before throwing it atop his head with a flick in an unprecedented hat trick.

"Thank you, Chryssa Glasgow! But do you even realize what you've done?" He said, stepping in front of Chryssa and facing away from the Drifblim, his clothes, hair and hat billowing about dramatically, clearly due to his rising power level and not at all the balloon pokemon's Ominous Wind, no sir. "With my crown reforged, my power has increased tenfold!"

And the very first use of this tremendous power would be-! helping her onto the balloon, naturally.

He found a nice spot to lean against after that, watching Chryssa stomp what was to be their foothold in the sky amusedly and wondering if he should be worried that his immediate reaction to her mentioning its flammability was not alarm but a quip.

"Things're gonna get so smokin' we gotta worry 'bout that, huh?" He said as he pushed off the edge of the basket, stepping closer towards her as she dared try and give him a way out.

"I'm gettin' breakfast in Heaven with you, Empress." He said with a snort, tilting his head. "My only regret's not bringing ya 'nother bouquet of carnations, and my words to the world? Don't wait up for us."

Next thing he knew, they were clinging to each other, Beagan's ascent proving particularly rough on that morning. Doug hadn't asked questions when Chryssa grabbed him with pain written over her face- he was just quick to hug her back.

Moments later, the rattling was over, with Chryssa's idle comment making him glance down to their launching pad.

"Huh. Guess those cow eatin' shrimps weren't behind those 'fter all." He muttered under his breath while staring at Beagan's handiwork wide eyed, offering absolutely no context to explain himself... before turning his gaze back towards her. 

"Awright, we're up in the air, ya queen bee. Whatever it is ya got planned, ya got this bee in." He said with a smile, gently letting go of her before leaning back on his end of the basket and swinging around his peculiarly shaped bag in front of himself.

He flicked the ends holding the bag closed loose, and it swung open to reveal... Exactly what the shape had suggested.

"But until we get to whatever and wherever it is... 'Tis our second date. Say, Chryssa. Do ya know how to play a fiddle?"

Also called a Violin, if one were feeling fancy, far as Doug was concerned.

"I think I figured 'em all out." He said, not quite explaining himself as he plucked the old instrument out of the box. Dust covered its surface as he gently dragged his fingers over the wood, staring at it with a hard to read expression. "But honestly? Ya were dead wrong. I ain't reconsidered nothing."

He stared at the bow wistfully. 

"I'm confused, worried and even a bit scared. But..." He said, brows furrowing... before a chuckle broke the expression down. "I think I'm actually more in love than before. It's a weird feeling."

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played by

murk

Not-Chryssa
She/Her
27
May 1
Eterna City, Sinnoh
Panromantic
radio host
agent
as flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport
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Be Mine the Doom [doug]
POSTED ON Apr 5, 2021 16:26:26 GMT
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“I never learned to play any instruments, as a matter of fact,” Chryssa said languidly, running one finger along the edge of the basket. It was difficult to get comfortable without anything to rest her head against. She was tempted to sit down in the bottom of the basket, but she loathed to let Doug  tower over her any more than he already did. 

The girl eyed the fiddle with interest and open curiosity, surprised by the sudden reveal. “I admire violin the most, honestly. It has so many different sounds. Joy, excitement, longing...” Her finger bumped against a frayed piece of the wicker basket, which jabbed painfully against her skin. “...Agony. It’s quite a versatile tool.”

The sounds that came were not music, however, but words— and they trapped Chryssa’s heart like broken glass.

“Oh?” She breathed out coyly after a moment. She felt short of breath. How high was Beagan going, anyway? “So what have you figured out, then? I gave one answer to you myself, if I recall.” Her eyes took on a dangerous glint, which she cleared with a bright, forced laugh. It felt like a nail, settling sharp and wrong in her gut. “Do you really think you can hope to understand me, Shadow Hive King?”

She put her hands behind her back to hide that they were shaking. They’d gone cold and clammy with sweat. Her neck brace, which had been uncomfortable, was now a choking band of heat around her neck. 

“I’m more in love with you than before.”

Who could just say something like that? Doug, apparently.

Chryssa wondered if this was another test. 

“I trust your good intentions,” she said after a moment, turning away to hide her burning cheeks. She looked out over the cloudscape as they drifted higher, the silhouettes of cable cars like distant ants. “Three impossible tasks. That’s what I said, wasn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question. “You’ve found the answers, but the task is yet to come.”

She turned, fixing him with clear, cool eyes. “Knowing isn’t enough. You have to believe them. You have to believe me.” 

The balloon climbed higher, higher, towards the peak of Mt. Chimney.

“Play,” Chryssa said suddenly, and gestured towards the violin. “Make it sing. Make it scream. Prove to me you understand, or kneel and admit to me now you’ll never trust something you don’t.” 

She asked for understanding, she asked for faith—and she asked for someone to listen, someone to hear what she was trying to say and accept it, even if they didn’t fully grasp the reasons why. 

Three impossible tasks. 

There was no room for doubt. Not in her world. There was no time.



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played by

Epic BugCatcher

Dr. Doug
He/Him
20 (40)
March 3
Viridian City, Kanto
It just works
Lt. Colonel, Medical Corps
AQUA Initiative
Playing hard to get
With a time traveler
5' 11" (181 cm) / 180 lbs (82 kg) height
5' 11" (181 cm) / 180 lbs (82 kg) height
You're being healed. Please do not resist.
awards
2,831 posts
part of
TAG WITH @bugcatcherdoug
John Sullivan
Be Mine the Doom [doug]
POSTED ON Apr 8, 2021 22:51:37 GMT
John Sullivan Avatar


Silence followed Chryssa's demand, the final task given.

Doug stared in silence, seemingly frozen in place.

And then, the fiddle rose, the boy's jaw finding its place upon the chin-rest, his eyes never leaving hers.  

He wasn't a Maestro, nor worthy of sitting at an orchestra.  He had witnessed enough playing from both his grandfather and mother in the past, many years ago, to think he knew where he stood. He was a street performer at best.

A performance worthy of this task was not something he could bring about simply by trying hard.

But the alternative was to exit stage left and not show his face again.

So he would play like he never had before. He had to.

"I'm an idiot. I only understood after hurting you." He said lowly, brow furrowed as he brought the bow against the strings, digits curling around the bridge and tightening over the cords.

What was he playing? Whatever cord came with his thoughts of her.

Find me a song where you never hear the ending.

Find me a bond that binds without bending.

Find me a silence that resists all pretending.

[player]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/793627575091593227/829765019625062451/I_-_Thanatophobia.mp3[/player]


The Night at the Hospital... When he thought back, he could not even understand why he had thought such a thing was okay.

He had believed she would be merely amused, glad to have some respite from the monotony of the Hospital life. With all three responses at hand, he had thought he knew; that she was unflappable and fearless before danger and death, seeking such other companions in her journey.

Had he been trying to prove himself, fearful of death as he was?

But it was all surface level; an idealization of their encounters and her actions, taking everything she had done at face value, willfully forgetting the times she had wavered in spirit.

It was only in the messy aftermath that his mind, in the shock left by her cold gaze and threat, finally caught up: Why would someone so full of life, so eager to make the most of every chance, so... frail. Why would someone like that be unafraid of death?

He might have been projecting a desire.

Chryssa was not fearless- She was courageous. There was not a single dull moment around her, as if she would not allow it. It was almost as if she lived on the clock.  

Chryssa was leading a war against God. And for all the theatrics and make believe they shared, he knew she was serious.

Someone born with a frail body and health. Who lived as if she were on a timer. Who hated God.

He almost didn't want to understand.

The bow slowly slid off the cords as the song came to an end, the fiddle being lowered to Doug's side as his gaze found Chryssa's once again.

He gave her a tired, honest smile, feeling every single hour of missed sleep weighing him down.

"I believe. That's why I won't let you do things alone."