sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

[MINGLE] Wendi-go-go to the inn

WHERE: 6I Village and Inn
WHEN: 27-31 July
OPEN TO: ALL - Mingle
NOTES: The Wendigo threatening the village will be killed mid 28 July, with a Blue Lily, per these threads. Plot details here. Note: The final fight is close enough to be seen from the upstairs inn windows.
WARNINGS: Wendigo attack mingle, please warn in comment headers if discussing violence, gore, or related trauma. Possible mentions of character death.

The urgent warnings come from villagers returning south from the lake: a creature twice the size of a man, antlered and voracious. Larger than any they've seen on the plains, stalking its way to the main village. Some might have their own names for this hunger in a skin of shadow; others might remember that it was the first to claim a life, in their village's short history.

Whatever context one has for it, best to secure all pets and loved ones before it arrives. With weapons and food stores at the inn, the call goes out to gather — And to bring back any tools, because there's no telling what doors and windows can do to stop such a creature.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He looked to her with those cold eyes. As if measuring her a moment. He could think of a few things to say but the one that felt right came out.

"What cause did you die for?"

He knew he was on deaths door, he knew Peggy had mentioned being wounded, it was a running theory, and with how Steph spoke, she spoke like she had lived it. He didn't belittle it by saying it was fascinating, even if it was.

She refused to look back at him, working instead on steadying her breathing and unclenching her fists.

"None," she admits quietly, voice dripping with bitter despair. "I died for nothing."

A noise of acknowledgement was given, part of him wanted to bitterly tell her at least she wasn't betrayed by the people she loved most, but he was starting to feel like a corrupted mp3 skipping.

"If you want... We clearly have time, I wont breath a word of it if you want to get it off your chest." He spoke not bothering to try and sound concerned, just the same tone. He wanted to know for his theory more than for her mental health. His eyes finally falling on Rose again.

No, she wasn't betrayed... she was the betrayer. She only wanted to help. She was just... trying to help. Finally she ducked her head, linking her hands over top to hide her face. It was too much emotion and she just wanted it to stop.

"I can't." She can't fall to pieces. She just can't.

"If you ever want to get rid of that weight, I live in house 48 now." He offered, not about to force it. Hell, he spent his first night sobbing into a pillow over the betrayal of his brother. He wasn't ever planning to share that, and he wasn't about to force someone else to speak when he could simply wait.

She might come around eventually. He just needed to remember his old mask, the one that served him well most of his life, the polite kind gentlemen, it was the closest to what he believed himself to truly be.

She shook her head, but stored that information away. If she was going to have an emotional breakdown she sure as hell didn't want any witnesses.

It took a few moments, but finally the shakes slowed and she got herself under control. She kept taking slow, deep breaths and lifted her head off her knees.

"I'm okay."

He wasn't worried about her knowing where he lived. Hell, he found it to be smarter made him sound nice and helpful. He looked away from the fight to her a moment before back to the street.

"If you say so, I wont be one to push otherwise. Granted, I don't think any of us are okay as much as getting by."

Steph watched the fight now without really watching it.

“Close enough.” Her voice had turned dull, but the shakes hadn’t left her entirely. The surge of emotion left her tired.

"Maybe, but we are different people. I see okay as getting by without a constant ache for something. Getting by being surviving for the sake of survival... lacking something we desperately need." He spoke with a wave of his hand. A least Rose wasn't dead yet, he really didn't want to see if he had the strength to dig that hole yet. Hell, he didn't even know her last name...

Did they even do tombstones here?

“Guess that feels like asking too much. I’ll settle for not being in pain.” Though sometimes her hands still hurt when she used them too much. It seemed there were limits to how much healing the ‘magic fountain water’ could do, and tiny joints and ligaments were it.

She felt bad, being bitter about her own suffering when people were fighting for their lives in front of her. But that thought led to how she ought to be fighting, and she just doesn’t have the courage anymore to let herself be responsible for other people’s lives. She cuts that train of thought off before it can overwhelm her again. Clearly it’s safer to just not think.

“What if I left? If I climbed down and just... left. Would it smell me, do you think?”

"Maybe." He replied easily with a shrug, Vergil still gets sharp chest pains from the brotherly stabbing, but that was mostly in his head, or so he tells himself. "Pain also has it's perks." He knew it sounded a little masochistic but, it felt important to say.

"I would advise against it. That creature and the smaller one are demons." He's back on the demon train. "They can smell far better than any human, I don't need to know the type to know it is a demon." He spoke as he pushed off from where he had taken to leaning the chimney, which probably got a bit to warm at the moment. Stepping closer to the edge and looking down. "Demons lack souls, but make up for that with higher senses and unbelievable strength... in short, if you go down there without proper motivation, you will die."

“I strongly disagree,” is Steph’s very flat retort. Maybe she would feel differently later in life.

She hummed in mild disappointment at his explanation. Of course, she had no reason to think they weren’t demons.

“And get somebody else killed trying to save me, probably. It was just a thought.”

"The fun of being human we can disagree." He replied trying hard to keep annoyance from his tone. Mostly at calling himself human. He was no longer special.

"Most likely, this lot seems very willing to do whatever it takes to keep all of us alive. Which is commendable." Idly he wondered if anyone had closed that window yet... or if they would catch hell for being outside if anyone noticed.

Let him be annoyed. He wasn’t recently tortured half to death. She heaves a dramatic sigh.

“Makes it real hard to be a masochist though, doesn’t it.”

He would argue that, but he's a drama queen.

"What... what?" Oh, oh he's blushing. "That was not at all what I meant..."

She looks over to raise an eyebrow at him, and her foul mood is lifted by that blush. She actually grins.

“Hey man, no need to be shy. Whatever gets you off, right? I won’t judge. Much.”

Why are the people in his life like this? Why, what did he do that was so bad... oh wait, yeah. Nevermind.

"No! No." His cheeks heated more as he lifted a hand to his face. "I only meant that pain is better than being empty, not that...just no. Sparda help me..." He added the last three words lower.

“Wow,” she exclaims, barely restraining a laugh. “That’s more specifics than I needed. I don’t know a lot of guys who’d be into that, even if we weren’t in weird nature-retreat purgatory. Just doesn’t seem safe.”

His eyes widened more. "What the fuck did I say to make that worse?" She got him to curse, usually only Dante pulls that off. He sounded utterly embarrassed, because he was. "I am not that kind of person, Steph." He didn't even date because he found humans unworthy....

She finally cackled a laugh. She needed that, really she did.

“Aww, don’t be like that. Any kind of person can be into BDSM. It takes a special kind of person to accidentally talk themselves into that corner.”

He didn't look amused at all. The fuck did he say wrong?

"...Your not going to forget this slip up happened are you?" Though, maybe that life style would do well for his demonic side, he just couldn't see himself enjoying it.

“Never,” she confirms smugly. “And I definitely won’t forget how easy it is to make you blush.”

He rolled his eyes some, and pushed his hair back. "I don't even understand how you jumped to that conclusion. And I would rather you never repeat this in front of anyone else."

“Well,” she begins in a suspiciously helpful tone. “First you said pain has perks, which clearly means you enjoy it, and people who enjoy pain tend to enjoy it sexually. Then you said you just don’t want to be empty, and obviously the solution to that problem is to put something in you. It doesn’t have to be gay, but that’s a pretty normal assumption for someone to make. Only, if you want it to be painful you stand a very good chance of injuring yourself. I mean, I don’t know if you know this, but butts weren’t really designed to work that way.”

"I'm half angel, half demon, I didn't feel physical pain often. I meant of the emotional verity." He almost stammered as the blush returned and grew. Opps. Forget the fancy term for his breed, nope he wasn't giving a chance for mistake, and unlike his brother he wasn't a manho at all. "Sexuality aside, because I assure you, I am not gay, I don't think anyway." He never really bothered to really look, but that seemed less offensive than the idea of hurting himself for sexual pleasure.

"No, I am nearly certain I am not into things like that. I merely mention on the emotional scale." He was in his twenties... stammering like a teenager caught with porn. If only Dante or Kat could see him appearing so very human.

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cw: explicit sex talk

This look, in the icon.