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

[guidemyway]

Woah- Okay wait. How old are you exactly?

Not that it's a big deal- My old Professor at school was like an ancient wizard who reincarnated into a new person every time he died.

[afterdrop]

Sixteen.

[Answering this question always makes him think of that silly vampire movie he watched once.]

Just been sixteen awhile, is all. Going on about thirty-five years. Been a detective thirty-three of them.

[guidemyway]

[The gears in her head start to turn a little, but the answer ends up getting a snort out of her.]

Jeez. Talk about the longest year ever, you must really be gunning for seventeen at this point.

But- I have a friend back home who could probably relate to that. He's only fifteen but he managed to his soul entangled with ancient reincarnating wizard. So he's kind of been every age like a bajillion times.

[afterdrop]

[He kept up with the years at first - seventeen, eighteen, up to about twenty. But after awhile, once he could no longer pass as older, it just got depressing, and he and Edwin started only marking the milestones.]

Must be a lot of birthday candles.

[It's really the only thing he can say at the thought. Sure, he talks about existing indefinitely, but thinking about it sort of makes him feel funny in the back of his head.]

Does he remember all of them? The reincarnations?

[guidemyway]

Yeah. We haven't had to cross the bridge yet. But I guess I'll owe him one by the time I get back home.

[Something she hoped she could do, but it felt like her chances of doing that were getting slimmer the more time went by.

But she'll push those thoughts away for now.]

Kind of? It's complicated. There's like him- And the soul of his past life that has all those memories occupying the same body.

And the line between them keeps getting blurrier as they merge into single person. So one of them knows right now, and the other doesn't.

But eventually he will, and they'll be one person.

[There's a pause and she shrugs.]

It's kind of terrifying to think about- and I imagine actually go through.

[afterdrop]

[Getting back home does feel less and less like a possibility with each day, but Charles hasn't been here long enough yet to count it out. He's still holding the words in his head like a mantra, hanging onto when instead of if.]

Makes the shit we're going through here seem a bit easy, don't it? Can't go complaining about starting a fire to someone whose past lives are merging, or something.

[guidemyway]

[Okay that gets a grin out of her, along with a little laugh.]

Look. I don't go saying this to anyone else because I think it would end up being pretty rude of the actual situation we're in.

But in some ways this place is kind of like a vacation compared to things that I've got going on back at home.

Except without all of the actual fun things you'd do on a vacation.

[afterdrop]

What, doing a stranger's makeup isn't your idea of fun?

[A cheeky little grin, fully joking.]

[guidemyway]

[And that gets a snort out of her.]

I mean- It's not the worst thing in the world. But it's no video game or fighting the monsters back where I'm from either.

But I guess it's okay.

[She's willing to rib him on a little too.]