nethiel-harmon said:

"Clinton Bethel!"

He jumped, whipping his head around quickly to whomever called him by name. His full name, even. No one ever called him by his full name unless he was being interviewed or he got caught red-handed. This time it was the latter.

"Y-Yes m-ma’am?" he stuttered, body hunched over as if he was a small puppy being scorned.

He hoped at the very least she’d just yell at him instead of smacking him like some of the other orderlies did, at least then his pride wouldn’t be too severely damaged.

nethiel-harmon replied to your post:(( I AM ALL SORTS OF INVESTED IN THIS DUMB DEMON…


((wELL. It started off as this dumb joke on skype about reaching Hell’s answering machine and for the phone to then redirect to a demon phone operator, managing calls from beyond the gates of hell (i guess, haven’t really drafted the details yet) and generally being a bit of a paper-pusher.

Their name is Office Demon #2458 (or just 2458 amongst friends) and they’re a dedicated worker, not overly bright but extremely polite, tolerant and patient. Their main job is to manage incoming calls, but they’ve also got a side gig of collecting souls for Satan. Each soul secured earns them an hour less of eternal torture. Which is to say, an hour less of infinity. Yeah. They’re not a smart cookie. But hey, it keeps them busy. And they get to fax contracts!… Oh and they’re rather gender fluid and androgynous. and with some of that stereotypical demon shit like horns and claws and fangs becaUSE I RLY LIKE THOSE THINGS FIGHT ME))


The first thing Nethiel did?

Was close the door.

But then she was moving to sit in one of the offered chairs. “Thank you,” she said, crossing one long leg over the other. It was all too obvious that something was on the young woman’s mind. And for a moment, she sat back in the chair, eyes taking in the room before she finally spoke.

"I’ll admit my ignorance to this sort of thing. I’m no sure how this all works - nor am I entirely sure just what you can and can’t do. I know you’re a therapist, and I’d be willing to hazard that you’ve your license.” Her eyes finally ticked back to Taylor, pinning him sharply - like a butterfly to a piece of cork board.

"Are you capable of …speaking with me in an official capacity outside of Mount Massive? I guess I’m asking if you…can practice privately yet? Outside of the asylum?"

Taylor was more than a little concerned when Nethiel closed his door and took her seat, avoiding eye contact and remaining silent.  These were not good signs, especially coming from someone that had every reason to be upset with him.

When it became clear that this was about work, however, his entire demeanor changed; immediately, the redhead adopted a serious look and leaned forward in his seat, light brown eyes focused intently on the secretary.

"Of course I have my license, Miss Harmon," he acknowledged with a slight nod and a smile.  As she finally turned that piercing gaze on him, he paused only briefly before clasping his hands before him and furrowing his brows thoughtfully.

"That’s… kind of complicated," he conceded.  "At least here at Mount Massive, there are strict rules against any members of the psych department accepting any kind of outside work.  Also, it’s… usually frowned upon for therapists to see people that they know personally in a professional capacity."

Taylor watched Nethiel for a few moments before sighing and leaning back in his chair, roughly running his fingers through the hair on the back of his head.  Finally, he shook his head and broke into a sheepish little grin.  ”But, there aren’t any rules against me giving you some advice during our personal time.  And hey, I’ve been told I’m a great listener,” he added, spreading his hands wide in a hey, what can I say? sort of gesture.

"Would that be a decent substitute, Miss Harmon?"

nethiel-harmon said:


woah dang thanksgiving came early!!!! bout to carve this whole fuckin turkey

except the turkey is thematically inappropriate cute disfigured murdermen fan art

nethiel-harmon said:


((squints at you

My first impression on the Url or their character: holy shit why is pre-engine trager such a cool dude?  i kind of want him to be my uncle or something.

Do I Rp with them?: not much yet, aside from a meme here or there, but there’s a thread comin’ at some point!

Do I want to Rp with them?: DO I EVER

Do I ever have any gifwars or talk to them?: workin’ on gettin’ up the courage to talk to them more often!

My opinion on their character: flawless characterization, a fantastic job at providing a lot of depth to a character that we don’t get to see very much about, and an absolute delight to interact with

Overall statement: best trager, favorite trager, p fantastic mun as well, overall A+ account!!  ))

((mun just took some nyquil and a shower after coming home from work early and is very likely to fall asleep with his laptop on his face 

in the (admittedly rather likely) event that that happens before i can write anything, i’m gonna just make a note here for myself and for the people that are kind enough to put up with me:

rp replies owed to:

j-blaire (x 2)


ask responses due for:





rp starters intended for:



holy shit.  good thing i have off tomorrow! ))

nethiel-harmon said:

She was washing his hair again. She knew she shouldn't - it would just get her in trouble, but...he was interesting. Quiet. Soft spoken. She liked him - as best as she could like anyone. "You should be Anpu," she said quietly, long fingers working and massaging to shampoo into a lather, the tips massaging his scalp. "Do you know who Anpu is..? He's the Egyptian Jackal God.."

"Should I?" he responded, hoping she would continue to talk to him.

In the back of his mind where some clarity remained, he knew this woman shouldn’t have been the one tending to him. She wasn’t a nurse, or doctor for that matter, but she was better than them at least. And above all else, she treated him like he was still human.

He pondered over the name Anpu for a moment, trying to remember where he had heard it before. There wasn’t much he learned about the world after he was admitted to his old facility, and that had been when he was seven. Sure he had some common knowledge, but everything else he learned had come from the select few television shows he and his former colleagues were allowed to watch. Ah, that was right, he had seen one about Egyptians, that’s where he heard it.

"At my old facility…there was a show on before the one I liked to watch, and they mentioned Anpu…I don’t know much else."

He was somewhat disappointed in himself for not paying attention more, but maybe she would provide some insight. Keep a conversation going, keep her attention for a while longer.

nethiel-harmon said:

Her eyes, keen and sharp, were studying his face intently indeed. She leaned forward just a little, a slim fingertip tracing the glass divider that separated them - him an inmate, her little more than a secretary, but--"How did you get that, Mr. Gluskin?" Her voice was...*deceptively* calm. Too calm. "Did someone hit you..?" And when Nethiel started to sneer, it did not detract from her beauty. "Did a guard do that to you?" she hissed, quietly.

No one knows what it's like to suffer as much as Eddie - despite every action he committed to harm another. Worse he felt, knowing it was in fact, a guard's doing. Now, if another inmate of his delivered the punch; they would have been murdered. Gluskin's expression was hard, blue eyes staring back into her's. The sneer plaguing her features of beauty caused Eddie to become suspicious.

"Yes." His voice rumbled low, brows furrowing to a degree whilst staying perfectly still. His massive muscles did not relax, and this was obvious- for he did not have anything covering his upper body. His strength gleamed from him, clear as the sneer gracing Nethiel's face. 

nethiel-harmon said:

[Because why not?] ♢

♢:Forehead or cheek kisses

He was tired.

So very, very tired. Things were coming to some kind of head, he could feel that even if he didn’t know exactly what was happening, and it was eating at the therapist.

But he had a job to do, and it was important for him to keep up with it. So he soldiered through. When things felt the worst, he took a moment to himself, but only a moment. There simply wasn’t time to waste on self, petty comforts.

Sometimes, though, comforts snuck up on you.

Usually they were little things. Giving in to the urge to put your head down on your desk, for example.

It was supposed to just be a quick de-stress, just put his down for a minute, but he must have fallen asleep, barely waking when his door was eased open by one of the secretaries.

She’d come to pick up a chart on patient blah blah, didn’t mean to interrupt blah blah; even as he was fighting to make himself wake back up, he could tell she was getting ready to back out, and then she go back to whichever director or department head she worked for empty handed, and first she’d get shouted down and then so would he —

"Here," he mumbled, long fingers scrambling over his desk before finding the folders, neatly filed and rubber-banded together, that she’d come looking for. He stumbled, blinking blearily and running his  free hand through his hair as he stood and rounded the desk, holding out the folders. "These are what you came for.

She looked at the case numbers and nodded, looking at him for a moment before stepping in very close, pressing a fleeting kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Doctor,” she said, turning and rushing away before he could react.

nethiel-harmon said:

"Can I speak to you?" came the voice of the young woman standing there in his doorway. At the moment, one Nethiel Harmon was leaning there, her eyes sharp and very intent on his features There was a beat, before she tacked on: "Privately?"

"Neth—" Taylor began, completely startled to see Nethiel Harmon, of all people, standing at the door of his office.  Quickly, he corrected himself.  "Er, Miss Harmon?  Please, by all means, come in."  He sat up a little straighter in his seat, gesturing to one of the two lightly-cushioned chairs on the other side of his desk.  

God, I hope she’s not still angry about the other day.  I swear, I’m never going near her office again…

nethiel-harmon said:

She was a wide-eyed wonder, hazel eyes of gold and green watching him - and he looked so angry. And in all fairness? Hell, she couldn't blame him. That had been her own dumb fault, and in the dark, she hadn't been able to see shit. She actually hadn't meant to hit him..! But she remembered what he'd said before, and---Nethiel bit at her lower lip before taking a chance, stepping forward and, extending her hands? "Let me love you," she murmured, all worried brows and hopeful eyes.

Deep, infuriated breaths ripped through his nostrils which in turn flared; chest heaving with the deep breathing. Fists clenched at his sides, one baring his knife. In his eyes, a whore was before him. An ungrateful slut.. like all the others. When she moved he did not flinch. Eddie only watched her movement, and listened to her words.

"You are a filthy whore," He snarled, his large frame looming over her's, "..But all can be forgiven." His expression did not lighten up; for he continued to bubble with steaming, dangerous ire. 

anonymous said:

Anyone striking your fancy, Taylor?

"Uh," he responded eloquently, tugging uncomfortably at the collar of his lab coat.

"Well, I mean… There are a lot of really attractive people here, but I don’t think I know anybody well enough yet to be allowed to call them crushes just yet.  

"There’s Nethiel, the secretary, who’s incredibly hot, but she’s about twenty different kinds of not interested in me - but at least she’s nice to me, most of the time.  … I think she might still be angry at me after I accidentally barged in on her changing, though.

"Miss Masters, one of my fellow psychologists, is really pretty, and she’s one of the only ones that actually listens when I talk during our department meetings, and that means a lot to me.  Plus, we had that weird night where I came to keep her company when she was drunk, but I’m… pretty sure she doesn’t remember that.

"Dmitri, one of the interns… He’s stupidly attractive, but I don’t really get enough chances to see him, and he’s kind of got a reputation as a huge flirt, so it’d probably be better if I didn’t get attached.  All I can say is, somehow we’ve wound up kissing twice, and I… really enjoyed it both times.  He’s a good kisser, that’s for sure.

"… And that asshole Blaire.  He’s a dick, and honestly kind of scares the shit out of me, but he’s got a really nice face, and anybody that says otherwise is probably lying.

"But, uh… we’re gonna keep this between the two of us, right Anon?"