The Creature - “Adam”
@offleshandbone.bsky.social
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RP|21+|Fake|Frankenstein
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“I.. It— it hissed, and.. Warm.. Like fire but not.. And.. And it spat!”
“I-.. It-.. It attacks.. I.. Stopped it.”
“Margo!”

Where was Margo?!

He had to save her from this… this thing!!
Adam followed, gently setting the still smouldering remains on the table.

“It hissed…”
“yes,” he said after a moment, though the word sounded uncertain, childlike. “But… I don’t think it likes me.”
“It-… it leapt. It screamed.”
Adam shifted the toaster in his hands, staring at the warped metal as though it might explain itself.
@verummonstrum.bsky.social

Adam stood in the doorway, the broken toaster clutched in both hands. Its metal shell was warped, its surface still faintly warm, a thin curl of smoke rising from the slot.
In which case….

*SCREECHES*
Can’t argue with that, he supposes.

Carry on.

He will be . . . somewhere else.
Well… no. That would entirely defeat the object of the screeching.
Well… no. That would entirely defeat the object of the screeching.
Can he screech more quietly?

He had a long night.
Adam’s brow furrowed, shame darkening his face. “It frightened me,” he murmured.
Adam’s chest heaved as though he’d fought a beast and won. His eyes, wide with shock, darted from the smouldering toaster to Yeshua’s calm face.

“I—I,” he stammered, voice trembling with guilt and confusion. “It leapt. It screamed.”
Adam did not hesitate. With a startled cry, he snatched up the entire machine and hurled it across the room. It struck the wall with a metallic clang, sparks flickering like frightened fireflies before fading into silence.
Adam regarded Quasimodo for a long moment, something gentle flickering behind his grave expression.

“You hear its song,” he said quietly. “I only hear the hum.”
Adam crouched beside them, his great frame folding awkwardly to fit the narrow space. He regarded the toaster with wary fascination, the faint whir of its coils reflected in his mismatched eyes.

“It is warm,” he murmured, voice rough but curious. “Like the hearth… but without fire.”
Yet he did not move away. He looked again to her, his voice raw and halting.

“Margo… stay.”
His jaw tightened, humiliation and fear warring with obedience. But he stood still, trembling slightly, because she had asked him to.
When the tailor reached forward to measure, Adam flinched at the first touch of the cold tape, a low sound escaping him, more reflex than language.
but only when Margo’s hand stayed upon his shoulder, grounding him. Slowly, with visible effort, he released the blanket from one side, letting it fall to his waist as requested.
When the man edged closer, tape in hand, Adam’s breathing quickened, short and shallow. His gaze flicked between the stranger’s hands and Margo’s face.

At the tailor’s hesitant question, Adam seemed to understand. Let go. His grasp loosened slightly,
Adam’s wide eyes tracked every motion the tailor made, the glint of the measuring tape catching his attention like a blade might. His fingers clenched around the blanket’s edge until his knuckles went pale, muscles taut as wire beneath scarred skin.
“Warm?”
Margo grins proudly.

“I am very happy to hear that. I got you a new blanket. Warm.”