➛𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝙃𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍.

// need to stop neglecting this account but hhhhh

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𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑺 *

#HorrorRP #MVRP #OCRP
#OpenRP #Fandomless #BskyRP
#FantasyRP #Literate #OpenDMs
#sfwRP #nsfwRP #Lovecraftian
#PersonalProject

ㅤㅤPENNED BY #MORITORIUMS
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤminors & non-rp 𝐝𝐧𝐟.
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// yes i logged back into this account just to rp with myself what of it–

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𝙈𝙊𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙀𝙍–

... Guess he has some research to do. 🙃
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Hands fidgeting anxiously at his sides.

"... I was kinda hoping you'd have some idea. This sort of ritual is more your territory."
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Eye twitch.

"𝙐𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙞𝙣𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚."

Deep breaths, Vin. Don't let the crawly bastard get under your skin.

"... My point is, it would benefit us 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 to put our heads together for once and find an actual solution to our... shared problem."
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He... doesn't even have a response for that. Why is he the way that he is?

"... Remember when you destroyed my entire family, then promised to keep me around so I'd suffer the most of them? Yeah. I think we surpassed that goalpost a while ago. It's 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩."

He wants off this ride.
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Thousand yard stare.

"... No thanks, Neferen. I'm already privvy enough to your... nocturnal exploits."

It's been a challenge to keep any food down lately.
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A development that comes as a shock to exactly no one, ever. 🙄
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// way more active on
@primordinations.bsky.social rn
whoops

bsky.app/profile/abys...

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— "I think their luck's gonna run out tonight." He says, his voice oddly perfectly clear among the chatter and noise.
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Without a sound, a man with wavy salt and pepper hair and two mismatched eyes slides onto the stool beside him. An amiable nod towards the bartender, wordlessly requesting his usual, and as he's served promptly he raises the bourbon to smiling lips and glances up at the TV. —
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— isn't on the hokora. He observes the other with a stoic demeanor, before finally announcing himself.

"Humans are weird, aren't they?"
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It's only natural that he goes unnoticed. He's the master of the silent approach. Though, with his presence, those feelings of disillusionment– the urges to 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒚– only amplify with each passing moment. Like waves crashing between two cliff faces, swelling atop each other. His focus however —
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ㅤ𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋.
ㅤ #OpenRP #MVRP #HorrorRP
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He finally looked at her, shifting his weight awkwardly. For a few seconds, he didn't say anything. Then, he simply nodded weakly.

"... I'll do that, Lyra." He smiled ruefully, in a way that betrayed he has absolutely no intention of doing that. "I'll... see you around."
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He is extremely boisterous and animated for the most part. He likes to talk with his hands, and seldom are things about him particularly subtle. He is also very okay with being a crass bastard who cares little for personal boundaries. A quiet, still Vinny is a sign of trouble.
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It is hard to say whether the Abyss is part of him, or he is an extension of the Abyss. The souls of the dead eventually wind up there to be broken down and recycled, and the worst of the undying are imprisoned eternally; bodies and minds twisted by the extreme conditions. 𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙨.
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— his hand to his hip and scratching his face with the other. He still couldn't quite meet her gaze.

"Salvage what's left of my city. Keep clear of the fallout."
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His own eyes shifted, recognizing something in hers that made him drop his hands back to his sides. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words– taking a heavy step back and covering his mouth with his hand as he looked away.

"... What I've always done." He shrugged, dropping —
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— How often had she thought of him. Could there be resentment he just wasn't seeing...?

Finally, he traced a circle on her palm as he pulled away, reaching to cup her face instead.

"I missed you, too..."
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His face betrayed almost everything– his regret, his longing, the anger in his heart– but most of all, pity. He had no idea how close she and Nate had grown, but he was still torn up inside for leaving her alone with him. How his absence must have felt... he wondered what she thought happened. —
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Vincenzo is a 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘦 masochist. "Vivisect me for fun" type masochist. There is no amount of pain you can deliver that won't be equally pleasant for him. He's literally just wired differently– partly as a survival mechanism for what he already endures.
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His true form is vaguely draconic, with a crocodilian head, ''glass'' wings and curved horns between which sits a small black hole. He can stand upright like man, or take on a more feral, alien shape. He often tucks his wings around himself like a cloak, hidden by a train of live storm clouds.
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Among his boons, he is most often called upon for health, wealth, visions and vengeance. All of which can become curses if the seeker isn't careful. Offerings of unique coins and small statues appease him– particularly dogs, which he adores. He is, however, dangerously capricious.
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Adapting to his illness, his body has a number of cybernetics– some visible, most not. His left arm, for example, is a prosthetic. His knack for machinery also fuels a hobby shop in the waking world called 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙙. He'll make anything you can imagine... 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.
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Though he prefers to appear to others as human, he suffers from a primordial illness which is constantly attacking his own body; preventing him from being able to spend much time in corporeal realms. He is often withdrawn to prevent its spread, but can manage it better in his 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺.
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Vincenzo Ashton was born to mortal parents Russell Ashton and Lorena Ardovini in Catskills, New York, 1919 CE. He is Italian-American. He also happens to be the current incarnation of an unfathomably ancient elder god, whose home universe was destroyed long ago.
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