singillatim | but a strange light in the sky was shining right into my eyes

but a strange light in the sky was shining right into my eyes

JANUARY 2024 EVENT

PROMPT ONE — THE AURORA: NASCENCE: Following the strange dream at new year, a three-day Aurora takes place. During which, Interlopers discover a possible ally in the mysterious woman heard in the static and heard in the dream — potentially earning new abilities.

PROMPT TWO — ADUST: The Interlopers find out what happened to the owners of long-destroyed Milton House in the form of hauntings.

PROMPT THREE — THE VISITOR: Interlopers find themselves with an unwelcome visitor — a shadow doppelganger here to make everything absolutely worse.

THE AURORA: NASCENCE

WHEN: January 13th - 15th.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potentially disturbing dreams; dreams of being burned alive; some minor supernatural horror; some minor ‘ghost’ horror/hauntings; death of npcs in various ways including suicide, murder or exposure to elements.

In the middle of the month, it happens. A herald. The noise starts: faint at first, but then growing louder. An ethereal, high-pitched chorus of sounds difficult to place. There’s a kind of electrical buzzing with it all, a low, endless hum punctuated with cracks and pops. The sky is alive with sound, and with it comes the swirling streaking of colour against the inky black of night: The Aurora has come.

Much of what happened previously happens again: Streetlights, illuminating the town’s roads; lights in stores and homes will come alive, buzzing and flickering at times. Previously abandoned cars will turn on, their headlights blaring. Electronics that had previously seemed broken flick on — and whilst there are no broadcasts available on televisions, and the radio waves only drone on in static, both only occasionally blaring standard emergency broadcasts. Any computers and phones will turn on, but will have no internet or reception. Instead, Interlopers may find texts and emails — many of them unsent. The everyday lives of their users stored within, now readable.

There are still some instances of the ‘ghosts’ from the previous Auroras, but they are now only faint outlines, and far fewer in number. However, whilst the Aurora would usually only last until the next morning on sporadic nights over the month — this time it will last for a full three days. The world is plunged into darkness, a seemingly endless night with only the Aurora to light the skies.

On the second night of lights and noise, a voice calls out to you: static-like, and distant — as if someone speaks over a radio. A woman’s voice. It is the same one you’ve been hearing for a few weeks now, but finally it is far stronger than the scant whispers of name and the word ‘help’. She is far clearer now.

“You.” she says. She may whisper your name, too. “I see you.” You’re unable to speak back, the communication is only one way. She sounds upset, but there’s something more… a kind of wonder, perhaps.

”It’s not just a regular aurora borealis, but then you probably worked that out already, haven’t you? It’s so much more than that. Everything is… changing.”

”I don’t know how you can go back. But— but I can help. Maybe. Maybe I can make this place easier, somehow. I need help, but I’m stuck—” There’s frustration in her voice for a moment. ”It took from you. Took you away. It doesn’t always have to take. We can take, too. Sleep. I will help you take back. You will survive this. You will not go into the Dark. This is not the end.”

You have no idea what that means, for the most part. But you might just end up taking the chance and doing as the woman asked, even if it’s difficult with the noise and light with the Aurora. Sleep, and a dream may come to you.

FREE RUNNER: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream you are a magnificent stag, galloping through the snowy woods with ease. You seem to go on and on, never tiring, never slowing. You feel like the wind, or perhaps the very wind itself carries you. Not once do you stumble or fall, even when the snow is thick and deep, or the ground is shaky and uneven beneath you. You feel free.

When you awaken, you feel the most refreshed you’ve ever felt since you first came here. For the final day of the Aurora, you are bursting with energy and even when the lights in the sky fade — that revitalised feeling within you remains. There’s something within you that understands: you are the Free Runner. The ground will yield beneath you, your energy will not desert you, the wind will carry you.

LIGHT BRINGER: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream of sitting by a lonely campfire in the mouth of a cave at night, warming your hands. As you sit, a strange feeling comes over you, a desire to reach out to the flames. And so you do, reaching with both hands into the fire — gripping at the white-hot embers. It burns you, and for a moment there is blinding hot pain as the fire suddenly explodes around you, consuming you whole. But the pain soon stops. The fire doesn’t burn you. No, you have become the blaze — your body warmed. You burn bright enough that the darkness around you turns into day.

When you awaken the next morning, you feel warmed and comfortable. As if even the coldest of winters couldn’t reach your bones. The warmth remains even when the Aurora ends, and you are left with the innate understanding:you are the Light Bringer. The power of flame is at your very fingertips. You master the light, life, warmth.

AURORA CALL: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape. You dream you are standing in the very sky itself, at the Aurora’s height. Colour and sound twirls around you, within you — and you feel it curl into your body. Your head fills with noise, a chorus of voices calling out, snippets of conversation echoing within you. A woman’s voice calls to you, it is the same voice that spoke to you before you slept: “Don’t you understand it now? We are all connected. The Aurora connects us.”

And you do, you do understand it.

When you awaken, you feel connected to the world around you. To the very people who live amongst you. You feel less lonely, a kind of kinship with others. You have heard the Aurora’s Call and you have answered it, unlocked a connection with your fellow Interlopers. You will be heard.

NOTHING: The colours of the Aurora dance around you in your dreamscape, but only for a moment. The edges of your vision begin the blur with black, slowly closing in until everything goes dark and you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. You awaken, and although you feel rested, as if the dreamless darkness has helped you feel a little more ready to take on the day — nothing else about you has changed.

ADUST

WHEN: From mid-month to month end.
WHERE: Milton House.
CONTENT WARNINGS: fire; house fire; death of a child/children; hauntings; ghosts; mental manipulation; illusions of burning/being burned; potential injuries via falling/unstable building collapsing.

There is a reason why it is advised to avoid Milton House other than the simple fact that it’s a miracle the house is still standing. Once one of the largest buildings in the town of Milton, it is now a former shell of what was once a fine and grand house. It has lain in ruin for many years, dilapidated and host to a great deal of fire damage.

While he is in town, Methuselah will not speak of the place, but he often looks sad when it has been brought up in conversation. “A great tragedy.” he will say before falling into a pensive silence. “A blackened mark on the town’s memory.” He does not wish to say much more of what happened: sometimes there are things that are just too painful. He will continue to advise the ruin is left alone, out of respect, and the fact that the place is a danger.

Of course, advice will not stop anyone from attempting to get into the ruins and exploring the house, even if it is in fact highly dangerous.

The sounds of voices and whispers may be enough to pique anyone’s interest. You're sure you heard something, maybe you should go to check it out?

It is true in the fact that the house itself is incredibly dangerous structurally: floors and stairs may give way and you’ll find your foot (and half of you) falling right through the floorboards. Damp and rot that have long since set in, and it will be dangerous to breathe in. But you’ll find that the house itself is pretty ordinary: this was once a family home. Just about the entirety of the house and its contents aren't salvageable, but you’ll be able to find out a little about who once lived here.

There are faded, half-destroyed photos that show a family of five: a father, mother, and three young children all under the age of ten. The father with warm, beaming smiles, the mother has kind eyes, the two oldest boys with toothy grins much like their father, the younger girl looks shy, wanting to hide against her mother. They look happy. Just a typical family. In a world where so many strange things are happening, it feels so strange to look upon these family photos and around this home to realise that they simply lost their home in a house fire.

But as you hold a family picture, or some half-destroyed trinket: a toy, a shoe, a book, a vase, you’ll find the item will suddenly catch alight, bursting into flames in your very hands. The flames do not burn you, and as you discard the item, it will fall to the floor as if nothing had happened.

Then, it comes to you. Here and there. Different sensations that stop and start suddenly: the house groans and creaks around you; the smell of smoke enters your nose; the sound of fire cracking and popping with a roar fills your ears; the sensation of heat against your skin; the clawing and suffocating feeling in your lungs that makes you cough and choke; the sounds of terrified shrieks of children echoing above you. Feelings flood you: fear, panic. When you next turn around, the entire house is aflame around you, and you can’t tell if this is real or if you’re reliving some terrifying memory.

You need to leave, get out of here. For some, it will be what comes naturally. You’ll have to fight through the flames and escape the house before it burns down completely around you. You’ll have to fight your way out, find an exit not already consumed by flames — through a window, perhaps. Crashing out of the house and into the snow, you’ll look back and see Milton House just as you entered it: nothing more than a half-burned ruin.

But for others, there will be another pull. You are drawn upstairs, to the screams of children. You need to get to them, to help them, save them. You will battle through the flames, heading towards the ruins of what was a child’s bedroom, or towards the bathroom. Inside either, you will find a figure cowering, engulfed wholly in flames: one in the bathtub or one in the closet. You recognise them as the two sons from the family pictures.

Mom. They will call you. Or Dad. They weep, terrified of the flames. I’m scared, I’m scared. I want the fire to go away. Help me. Stay here.

The tragedy of Milton House is before you. More than just a fire. What is more tragic than the death of a child? What silences voices? Breaks spirits? Leaves one helpless to act in the wake of such a passing?

There is something to be done here. You are not so powerless. Calm the child. Offer gentle assurances. They will get out. They are safe. You are there for them. You will stay. Embracing them will set you alight. Too hot. Too bright. It will hurt, but you won’t burn. But don’t let go; holding them will eventually calm them down enough for the flames to grow dim, to slowly ease their spirits to rest.

Soon enough, the flames will go out and the child will disappear, leaving you alone in a decaying, dilapidated room.

In the churchyard of Milton, there is a family grave by the name of Barker. Three lie within it: Thomas it reads, and his beloved sons, Patrick and Christopher.

THE VISITOR

WHEN: The month of January.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: erything absolutely worse.
THE VISITOR — CONTENT WARNINGS: supernatural beings; dream-related horror/disturbing dreams; doppelgangers; themes of depression; themes of self-harm; themes of isolation; potential themes of suicide.

It seems the dream of the New Year and the Aurora dreams are not the only odd sleep-related instances occurring this month. You first notice that something is off when a strange dream pulls you from sleep. The dream may feel like any particular dream you have, whether it be a usual nightmare or strange concoction your brain has conjured up for you this night. Maybe it’s a dream you’ve had before, maybe it’s a new dream entirely. But no matter the dream, there is one thing that is odd about it. In tiny moments within the dream, you notice that there is something different, something that feels out of place. Something is there that shouldn’t be.

A figure, tall and silent, entirely made of shadow stands lurking in the background. It looks human, but there is not much more that you can really describe further. It is a sad, unsettling presence.

When you awaken, eyes bleary from sleep, and you look about the room, to the bottom of your bed, for a half-moment you see that figure standing there silently. That unsettling sadness permeates the room, and after a few seconds of blinking and sitting up — the figure disappears. Perhaps it was just some trick of the mind, some half-awake illusion.

But the next time you sleep, it appears again. The same figure, the same emotions surrounding it. And when you awaken, it stands at the bottom of your bed once more. Only this time, it lingers, and you find yourself staring down the figure before it disappears once more.

Over the next several days, the presence continues to linger more and more. It stands silently in the corner of the room of your home; it hovers by the window, staring out into the snow; it stands in the middle of the road as you go about your business. More and more, it is there. Always standing, always watching — silent and sad.

No one else seems to notice it, only you. And over time, the shape of it seems to change — the vague, undefined shape of it slowly shifts into something you recognise. The same hair, the same height, the same way it holds itself: it is exactly like you. A perfect doppelganger, a second shadow. And with it, it exudes an oppressive sadness, a particular kind of loneliness. It is suffocating, bleeding into you.

It makes you withdraw from the world around you, from the people around you. Perhaps you stop spending time with others, retreating into solitude. You hide from others, keep to yourself. You find yourself not sleeping at all or perhaps sleeping too much. Perhaps what little you already eat becomes nothing. The shadowy doppelganger draws ever closer to you, close enough to touch you - ever hovering at your shoulder. Its presence bores down on you, making you feel small and more and more alone even with its ‘company’. No one else can seem to see it but you, mentioning it to others will earn odd looks, or even concern. It seems you and your double are alone together.

Hopefully, those around you will notice the change in you. How you stopped reaching out, how you’ve stopped taking care of yourself. Hopefully they will see something isn’t right and reach out. You are doomed to the doppelganger's company otherwise.

However, those around you can push the shadowy double away, and can break its influence and hold over you. Genuine care and concern for you will have it shrinking back. Perhaps it is a kind word, perhaps it is the gentle but insisting coaxing to eat. Perhaps it is an attentive ear to listen to your thoughts, to how the presence has made you feel. Maybe it is even the simplest of touches, an embrace or the holding of a hand, the grip of a shoulder. Continued connection with you will slowly have the visitor’s power diminish.

And hopefully it is done before it is too late, or it may be all too easy to fade into the Long Dark.

FAQs

THE AURORA: NASCENCE

1. Aurora Feats are now unlocked! Please see the following page for more information. Aurora Feats are completely optional.

2. Interlopers will only receive ONE Aurora Event. The only time this is available is this month. After January, players will have to wait for the next Feat round for another chance at an Aurora Feat.

3. This Aurora will last a full three days. It will be a period of only night.

4. For more information on the ghostly loops seen during the Aurora, see this previous event, under 'The Aurora: Aftershocks' prompt.

5. For new players who would like a little extra context regarding the woman can look at December's Tales From The Northern Territories, under the 'New Happenings in December' section.

ADUST

1. Characters will not be physically burned in the fire, but only feel as if they have been. The effects of this illusion will last a short time after they're out the house before they will fade.

2. The only real injuries characters can sustain will be from fall damage, or if the floor gives way and their feet go through, etc. whilst in the house.

3. The children cannot leave the house. They will be too scared to leave. In addition, they are tethered to the house, given that this is where they died. Simply being calmed/comforted is the best way to help them and they will disappear after that.

THE VISITOR

1. An Interloper's Visitor can't be seen by anyone but the Interloper themselves.

2. The Visitor can be spoken to, but it will not speak back. It cannot be interacted with and is intangible.

PLOTTING POST

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Biting is weird, Louis! When Hickey hears 'you'll live,' his first thought is 'what the fuck.' When Hickey hears 'I just need a drink,' his second thought is 'what the fuck?!?' He tries to wriggle out of Louis's grasp, tries to just get the fuck away from the man, but it's no use.

He can feel something prick into his neck—though Hickey can't see it that well, he knows it's Louis's teeth. He knows the man is biting into him with teeth stronger than any human's, teeth of an animal. He's got ten billion questions and also still wants to get the fuck out of here, but the tiny little practical voice in Hickey's mind points out the obvious.

Try and move out of the way, try to escape, then what? Those teeth are strong enough to pierce your skin, try to move and they'll rip your throat open.

So he goes still. But as Louis drinks, as Hickey feels that suction against his neck, it's obvious that terror is still running wild through Hickey's veins.

It's not the pinch of blunt human teeth; it's the sharp points of something else. Louis forgets his agony for a few blissful moments. For a vampire, blood is everything. Better than drugs, better than sex, a vampire may find themselves driven without thought in the ruthless pursuit of blood.

Louis's skin is cold--not corpse cold, but nearly so. Louis groans against Hickey's throat, but he has enough years of practice to keep his lips clamped firmly there, not a drop wasted. You don't bite the blood, you suck it, Lestat's words come back to him. He groans like a man gulping his first taste of water in a long time or sinking his teeth into a delicious steak. Louis, ever the gentleman, would normally be appalled at this complete lack of composure.

He is not a man, he is a vampire, and he could not begin to describe how it feels to someone who has never experienced it. There is a drumming in his ears beating double-time in rhythm with Hickey's heart, and it is his own heart. The snow is brighter somehow even in the dark, his dilated eyes hungry for blood and light. Louis's skin warms as he draws Hickey's blood into himself.

He pulls his hands off Hickey and plunges them into the snow. The cold is a shock and reminds him of his vulnerability in this world every time he is close enough to bite. It's almost enough to tempt him to take Hickey's life to protect his secret.

It is agony to pull his teeth from Hickey's throat and roll off him. It's not enough, could not be enough unless he mortally drained him. Louis moans with sorrow like an addict now, tongue licking the last of the blood on his lips with the salt tang of sweat and fear. If he could have just a little more...

This is an entirely unique feeling to Hickey. He starts to feel a bit woozy. Is the snow colder? Or is it just in his head? Or is that something this monster is doing? Part of him feels like he could fall asleep instantly—he forces himself to stay awake, adrenaline pumping through the body, focused so much on his own self. His own being. He's staying awake, he's staying conscious through this...whatever it is.

When he can feel Louis roll off of him, Hickey scurries backwards. It feels like it takes all the effort in the world, but he reaches his hand up to press on the open wounds he knows must have on his neck. He can feel a bit of the warmth and stickiness of blood, his blood, between his fingers.

"What the fuck are you?" he asks, through ragged breaths.

He clamps a hand over his mouth, trying to steady himself. He can feel his fangs nearly pricking through the inside of his lips. He removes his hand, sees the blood on it, and laves his tongue over it hungrily. What terrible table manners.

His head lolls drunkenly, but his eyes focus without error on Hickey--well, Hickey's neck. The whites of them aren't so bright now, an ordinary human-like pink to the tiny vessels. His fangs slowly recede. Only then does Louis trust himself to speak without attacking again.

"Damned," is the only proper response, the word hitting the air like an ill-timed drum of a stuttering heart.

He's coiled in an S on the ground as if at any moment he might spring like a snake, but he doesn't. Then his face winces as if in pain, and he moans again with unmet need--and unmistakable shame.

"I was... so hungry..."

Damned, that's not a fucking answer, Louis! That's not anything close to an answer! Hickey makes a noise of irritation, mostly because speaking hurts right now and what he wants to say ('Hell doesn't exist, if you're damned then I'm damned right besides you, what sort of damned creature looks like a man but drinks blood? Again, that's not a fucking answer!') would take far too long to actually say.

Instead, Hickey props himself up to a seated position. It takes effort. He still feels so sluggish but keeps moving, keeps talking because to be still is to die. If an animal's hurt and it lies down, it's practically dead. People are the same thing.

"Is this a disease?" Fuck, is Louis a zombie as well?! How come everybody else here is a zombie, he's only just learned that zombies exist! "Am I infected?"

Louis remembers how it was his first time, like flying, like drugs. Lestat had only taken a little. In this new world, Louis is sure his bite doesn't have the effect of euphoria on humans anymore. Louis doesn't know if that is a good or bad thing now. Probably good; Hickey is cognizant of his own struggle for life. A human must will themselves to live if fed on enough, but Louis only took enough to keep himself fit.

"No," he gasps vehemently. The idea that rises in his mind is too horrible to entertain: an epidemic of vampirism. It isn't as though Lestat, who taught him everything, behaved as if vampires were a select club, but the natural instinct of an apex predator tends towards lonely. The only ones that can best them in a fight are usually avoided. A long-term relationship like theirs is rare.

He sits up too, in one fluid sinuous movement. "I only... ate you."

His pupils and eyeteeth are returning to normal size. He still half expects to be attacked. He puts out a hand with fingers spread, a useless placating gesture. Human, human, Louis still acts like a human out of habit.

"Blood's the only thing I can eat."

Louis ate him.

There is something so desperately funny about that. Hickey's not sure if it's the blood loss or if it's actually funny, but the thought of Louis eating him is oddly hilarious. Everybody from Terror's worried about Hickey, what would Hickey do, when would Hickey snap, who's Hickey going to murder first, well he's not the only cannibal in their midst! He's not the only monster!

Hickey lets out a quiet, slightly deranged little laugh, indulging in a few seconds of manic giggling, laughing at a joke only he knows, before snapping back into focus. This is an opportunity. It'd be foolish to let it go to waste. Get it together.

"I can keep a secret," he points out. Because of course Louis would want this to be a secret, it's not like he opened with 'hey guys, I'm a horrific blood drinker.' "But I'd expect something in exchange."

It's ridiculous; Louis is self-aware enough to know this. How often he, Lestat, and Claudia talked of eating people, "playing with your food," and other such vampirisms such as "It's late, come to coffin" and "Don't worry, I don't bite." Deliberately playing off the horror.

People laugh when they panic too. Lestat has done it. When Louis panics, there is a threshold he passes into manic behavior. The desperate self-revulsion on his face gives way to something purposeful yet quietly unhinged, like a spinning top that shakes only just so. Louis, despite the appearances he keeps up as a legitimately cultured man, worked, for many years, in a disreputable part of town. You couldn't look weak. Louis panics at the thought of people knowing his secret in this small town, but he can't look weak.

How disappointing too. He thought he might like Hickey. He still might, if only for his cleverness. The weasel thinks he can blackmail him, and Louis de Pointe du Lac is so offended he almost forgets he doesn't have all his powers.

He definitely forgets to move, breathe, shift as a human does. The effect is of a statue of incalculable detail. His eyes dilate again to blackness. He doesn't bother to hide his fangs now.

"Sure, fella," he says quietly, as if they're in conversation in the parlor and might wake a sleeping infant in the other room. The slight drawl of his accent is almost gentle. "You don't tell anyone, and you get to keep your life. You can walk, free, knowin' I won't mug you for your blood again. Very ungentlemanly of me to bite you without permission, Mr. Hickey."

Hickey is looking this monster, this thing that sunk it's teeth into him and drank his blood, he's looking it straight in the eye and basically going 'wanna bet?' It is either incredibly dangerous or incredibly stupid.

"Nah, that's not how it works. You've been pretending to be human. If I die, there'll be questions. And how long do you think you'll be able to keep all this," said with a vague gesture to Louis's teeth, "under wraps? You've already fucked it all up once."

Case in point, him.

"I'm not asking for much," Hickey says, with a little shrug. "I just want to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement."

"I give you somethin', then you ask for more and more later. I know how it goes. You're not makin' a good case for yourself."

He slowly stands, not because he has to be slow--he has his usual grace back--but because he doesn't want to startle Hickey into doing something exceedingly stupid. Louis feels full, flushed, energized, but he keeps it inside like a coiled spring. The nourishing effect of a good bite is nearly instantaneous in a vampire.

"I been hidin' for decades. One setback is easily dispatched. You're wounded, weak, but I've got your blood hale and hearty inside me, and it's doin' wonders."

He doesn't like killing, but he'll do it if he is threatened. His head tilts slightly while the rest of him remains remarkably still. "I am curious what makes you so desperate that you'd try to bargain with someone who only has reasons to kill you."

"It's not desperation. It's practicality. You'll be hungry again soon enough," Hickey points out, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. He pushes himself to his feet, rather shakily, but trying to hide that shakiness behind bluster and rationality.

"What were you eating before this, rabbits? It's a damn shame to let the rest of it go to waste. You were probably thinking something like that when we left that basin together. Me with a rabbit over my shoulder, all that blood." He gives Louis a cavalier little shrug before pointing out, "I can do without the blood. It's the meat that I need. And like I said. No sense in letting it go to waste."

It's still a little bit of blackmail. But as far as Hickey's concerned, having something like Louis on his side is worth the risk.

"Rabbit ain't so big." He's got a more ready source of rabbits in the works, but Tim not knowing the exact nature of his "delicate constitution" is a disadvantage. Louis is currently trying his hand at ambush hunting larger game. Case in point: Hickey.

Louis thinks back to how Hickey acted like a sycophant with that deer. And the weird more-than-bear he mentioned...

His lip curls. "I ain't no animal to be tamed, prick. Watch yourself. I don't waste food, I freeze it. Barter with me like a normal resident of this town or not at all. You keep your life and I owe you one animal. Or a drink."

And here he smiles cruelly, wide enough to flash both pairs of pointed eyeteeth. It doesn't last long; his violence is a joyless revelry. (Though, he does cut bits off if he's angry enough, as if the taking of an ear or jaw could convince his victim that they made a mistake disrespecting him.)

"I used to balance books for a livin'. It's just business. I don't take kindly to no leech."

"Must have been a piss poor accountant if you don't recognize a business arrangement in front of you."

He's just saying. Hickey rolls his eyes, standing his ground against Louis's threats. This man won't kill him. Would have done so already if he was given the chance. Besides, there would be far too many questions if Hickey's corpse showed up, drained of blood.

"But fine. You want to hamper yourself, be my guest. I'm not stopping you."

There's a pause before, "You owe me two animals, by the way. One cause you attacked me. The other cause I'm keeping your secret. Unless, of course, you want a lovely little notice posted, warning everybody just what you are?"

"Owner," he corrects, because he has to. He wasn't just some pencil pusher, he owned the place. "And I did well for myself too. I don't do business with people who threaten me. Makes me debate even leavin' you alive. Suppose you got eaten by a 'bear' tonight? Damn shame. I like havin' humans in town."

Emergency rations. Friends, even. But he's capable of murdering someone and making it look like an accident. Or an animal attack.

"I think you mistake my dislike of causin' harm as an inability to do so. Don't push your luck. As if anyone would believe you. One animal, of a proper size too, and you can pick it up evenin' at... let's say the general store in town. You got any other bright ideas for 'arrangements,' you can bring your proposals to me there. But Lord help you if you disrespect me again."

He likes to negotiate under better circumstances, usually at a card table. He's the only one who's had a drink, and there's no live entertainment here in the cold forest.

Edited 2024-02-04 06:31 (UTC)

"Terribly sorry that I don't feel particularly generous towards a man who tried to rip my throat out," Hickey sasses. As far as he's concerned, he is absolutely in the right and Louis deserves all the shade and dunking and sassing Hickey can muster. In all regards, but especially this one, Cornelius Hickey did nothing wrong.

"I'll see you at that store when I stop bleeding."

Sass from a rat of a man is fine. Extortion is not, and Louis plans to make that clear to Hickey if it ever comes up again. It's hard to feel bad about attacking him when Hickey tried to milk him. Louis stalks off to the side and away, keeping his eye on Hickey as he picks his way through the moonlit snow at a prowl.

"Careful you don't attract more predators with that blood, fella." Jerk.

Hickey starts to walk back towards town, towards anyone who could patch him up. But as he does, he makes sure to flip off Louis as he retreats.

Man, fuck that guy.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

but a strange light in the sky was shining right into my eyes

go for it, baby! cw: gore, blood, all the assorted vampirism warnings

cw: vampire sucking blood, it's not sex drugs or rock n roll but the metaphor is there

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oh my god

he's the smartest person in the whole world

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cw: gore

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hahahahaha

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