it's been a long october.

[afterdrop]

Who: Charles Rowland and YOU
What: Monthy catch-all
When: Throughout October
Where: Around Milton

Content Warnings: Specifics TBD; general warnings available here.


𝒊. 𝒚𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒅

[A short jaunt up from the town center, where the road gets rougher and the sparse trees begin to climb towards Milton House, there's an overgrown, decrepit cottage tucked back in the trees. Blue once, maybe, but faded into a mildewy grey, its windows utterly piled with what hasn't been worth scavenging.

At least, until today.

It's been almost six weeks of squatting in the near-hoard, stuck between pretending that he wouldn't be here long and feeling overwhelmed by the monumental task of making this place livable, when Charles finally wakes up, opens the front door, and starts dragging shit outside.]

Sorry, mate. [He gives a sideways little wave, plunking down a plastic cat carrier.] Just trying to clean up a bit, yeah?

[If it looks like it might have belonged to a 70-year-old woman prior to the apocalypse, it's sitting in the front yard now. Several ceramic horse figurines. A needlepoint pillow with a Bible verse on it. An ornate mirror, slightly scuffed. Use your imagination liberally. Surrounding it all, however, are items in much worse shape. The mattress looks like someone may have died on it, judging from the stains, and there's plenty of busted, broken furniture that's ripe to be chopped into firewood.]

Nick whatever you want. Don't think Gladys'll miss it much, will she?

𝒊𝒊. 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆

[There's one thing he won't part with from the old lady's house - an old, crumbling stick of black eyeliner he found in a bathroom drawer. With a tragic lack of sufficient inside light, however, he's toted a compact mirror down to the lessening hours of the town's unfiltered sun, and sat down against the back of the hunting supply store.

After thirty years of spiritually manifesting his eyeliner, it's harder than he remembers, especially with the scavenged pencil.]

Fuck. [Someone's having a hard time.] Bloody piece of shit.

[If you approach, he'll have one of a couple of reactions. Older men, particularly those broad or bearded, or otherwise classically masculine, will have him scrambling to conceal the pencil behind his leg, quickly barking out a, ] What're you looking at?

[If you have the good fortune not to remind him of one Paul Rowland, however, his reaction will be much less hostile. Instead, he'll give the pencil a little wave and offer a crooked smile.] Bit harder than back home, innit?

𝒊𝒊𝒊. 𝒐𝒐𝒄

[Contact me at ghoulsonfilm or pantsghost @ discord to plot a custom starter. Brackets are prose are both fine!]

Comments

[afterdrop]

[The apple fell near the tree. Charles manages to stop the shudder that nearly goes down his back, but the invisible chill in the back of his mind is unavoidable. He's spent the better part of his life worrying that he's landed right in the roots, destined to carry on a legacy of anger and violence.]

His name's Dutch, or he's Dutch? [Not that it matters, because, ] I mean, haven't met either of 'em, anyway.

[desperate_times_right]

His name’s Dutch, or like, Mold or something. You’d know, I think. PI from the seventies, wears that loud-ass ski suit everywhere.

[afterdrop]

[March had better hope he doesn't meet Charles, who will absolutely be calling him Moldy Dutch.]

Loud suit sort of detracts from all the private investigating, doesn't it?

[desperate_times_right]

What's there to investigate here? Everyone’s already in each other's business all the time.

[afterdrop]

Yeah, but there's plenty of crazy shit happening all over! We're all sort of in one big mystery, aren't we?

[Despite it all, he seems a little bit excited by that prospect.]

That's my specialty, back home. The weird stuff no one else can solve.

[desperate_times_right]

I see. I bet my friend Elena would love to compare notes with you. She's a journalist, but she always seems to lose her camera before anything supernatural happens.

[afterdrop]

How it always happens, innit?

[He gives a cheerful, knowing smile.]

Not that the supernatural shit shows up on cameras half the time, though. All my selfies turn out little balls of light.

[desperate_times_right]

[Chloe raises an eyebrow.]

Don't tell me you're a vampire, too.

[afterdrop]

Nah. Just a ghost. Back home, at least.

[Then, her phrasing catches up with him.]

Wait, too? Is there a vampire here?

[desperate_times_right]

There were something like four of them at one point, but a few of them are gone now.

[afterdrop]

Gone like, disappeared? Or- wait, can vampires die?

[He scrunches his face, trying to remember.]

Never proper killed one, back home. They were usually pretty nice blokes. Just had to throw 'em a couple of raw steaks and they'd simmer down.

[desperate_times_right]

I'm pretty sure they can die. Burn up in the sun or whatever. These ones just disappeared, though. Happens sometimes around here.

The ones here are pretty chill too so long as you don't get caught up in their domestic drama.

[afterdrop]

[That gets a little laugh from him.]

Not the sort of drama I'd expect from vampires. Bit refreshing, from the shit that happens around here, innit?

[desperate_times_right]

Refreshing until one of them is on your front porch bawling because he thinks you're fooling around with his boyfriend! Ugh.

[afterdrop]

What, are you kidding? [His laugh is much louder now, bright and youthful.] That'd be aces. Always loved those kinds of cases, back home. Staking out cheating spouses for dead people, and shit.

[desperate_times_right]

I didn't even do anything! [But she's laughing too.] I did have a blood for food arrangement with him but it was strictly platonic.

[afterdrop]

Well thank god it was a platonic blood-sucking arrangement!

[He says it though just about the best, proper laugh he's had since arriving here.]

I was worried there for a moment!

[desperate_times_right]

The boyfriend certainly was! Howling on my doorstep, blood all over his face. Jesus. I should at least be getting laid if I have to deal with that, you know?

[afterdrop]

Doubt much of anyone here is. [Certainly not him, a scrawny teenage whose nonchalant maturity talking about such things is all part of the persona.] Price to pay for living with these lovely views, innit? Barely miss all the options back home when you have- snow, and logs.

[desperate_times_right]

Eh, it's there if you know where to look for it. [If you're Chloe, anyway. She’d even managed a threesome here once.] Might be different for you, teenagers are pretty thin on the ground here.