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

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.

“You’re just so offended,” she noted with what was definitely glee.

“What, does the Angel blood make you super vanilla? I know it doesn’t make you celibate or you wouldn’t be here.” Not that she meant to poke fun at his parentage, of course. Actually, it was probably best to move away from that part of the conversation.

“Has anybody told you you’re a total drama queen?”

"A little, yes." He admitted, a touch of insult in his tone. How dare!

"...I doubt that." His parents had been very in love after all...and the sheer amount of angel styled strip clubs in Limbo City was kind of interesting. he was glaring at her a second before he rolled his eyes at her last words.

"A time or two, yes." He could admit that. Granted, not many people were brave enough to talk to the nephilim about his lack of a sex life, or his tastes. "It comes hand in hand with being a revolutionary." he added with another role of his eyes.

She snorted a laugh.

"I think you might have that backwards. But what do I know? The 'revolutionaries' I know are all pretty dramatic too." She thought of Batman, and for the moment the thought didn't hurt. They did have some good times, after all.

He rolled his eyes playfully, though the idea of shoving her off the roof had crossed his mind. Not like anyone would catch him if he was careful, but no. She hadn't been offensive, and she could still be useful.

"Do you know many?" He asked curiously.

“One or two.” She shrugs. Does Tim count? Oracle probably does, but she’s not prone to dramatics.

“I don’t know how much I can talk about them right now, though.” She sighs and rests her chin on her knees.

“I wonder if they even know I’m gone...”

"Then you shouldn't be surprised by much." He speaks like he is an expert, he had stumbled into the revolutionary life style... it had mostly been a revenge ploy and a means to track Dante. He didn't really care if the humans were freed as long as Mundus died for what he did to his family. But, he will ride that heroes train to the station.

Crossing his arms again, he looked back to the battle. "If I take a guess, will you shove me off the roof?"

“Yes,” she answered with considerable authority, meaning it not a bit. There wasn’t an answer he could give that she hadn’t already thought of.

“Gonna risk it anyway?”

"Of course I am." He replied, though he did take a step away from her. JUST in case. He's human now, he has to worry. He may have survived landing on his head after one hell of a fall as a nephilim but as a human, probably not.

"You disobeyed an order, which endangered your life, or even the lives of others. So you expect they are livid at you?" He took a guess from the things she had said, and how he would react if Kat disobeyed him. "That is why you are uneasy, but also curious about time flow."

Edited 2018-08-01 00:59 (UTC)

Her insides went cold. It wasn't the kind of guess she was expecting. She wasn't prepared to come up with a complex, detailed lie, though, and she couldn't deny her guilt. She didn't have that right.

"It's, uh," she started, forcing the words out through a throat that was trying to close, "maybe, a bit bigger than that. And a fair bit more complicated." She stared at a single tree in the distance, trying not to remember fire, gunshots and screams.

He was good about that. Even without trying, though he watched her reaction. Drinking it in. Welp, that hit in button.

"But something close? It sounds to me, like you need to talk to someone. Not me, I am sure I am the last person you will want to tell this to, but talk to someone. Get the weight off of you before it crushes you."

"A little late for that, don't you think?" She was already suffocating under all of it, even discounting her minor breakdown of a few minutes ago.

"Anyway, it's not the passage of time I'm curious about. I don't really know how long I was..." chained in a basement "missing, before I died. They probably didn't know I was gone, let alone in trouble."

"It's never to late..." Yes it was. They were both likely dead, and unforgiven.

He arched one of his dark brows looking at her. "You were held captive?" He turned to give her his full attention, just a bit out of kicking distance though. he still didn't trust anyone enough. "Do you think they killed you, Steph? A good number of us had death blows dealt before coming here... others did not."

In a strange juxtaposition, she felt much more comfortable talking about the circumstances of her death than the events leading up to it. She pulled the collar of her tank top to the side to better frame the large scar on her shoulder.

"They definitely thought they did. I remember him walking away before I blacked out. Actually-" She twisted to point the back of that same shoulder in his direction, still trying to hold back her shirt.

"Did it go all the way through? I couldn't exactly tell, and it's a hard spot to see in a mirror." She was morbidly curious. As it happens the bullet did not go through, stopping instead to shatter a portion of her collarbone and break the shoulder-blade behind it. If he risked coming close enough for a proper look he might notice the still-puffy scars covering the rest of her back, arms and chest, and especially her wrists and hands.

Death was a dance everyone had to take sooner or later. It was easier than admitting ones mistakes.

"Well, you certain must be having lovely dreams." He spoke with a touch of sympathy. It wasn't real as much as sounding real, he was selfish in feeling his pain over-weighed it, but each persons tragedies were the worst in their own minds.

Looking at the wound when she pulled her shirt to the moved closer, still expecting a shove as he knelled on one knee looking closer. "You have scar tissue, its puffy... for lack of a better word... I would dare say the bullet may still be inside....Oh." Then it clicked, those scars were not from bullets. "It did not go all the way through, but if you don't want questions asked, I would advice against a two peice if we ever get a pool here. No offence intended."

She shrugged, letting her shirt fall halfway back in place.

“It’s too hot for long sleeves. What’s there to ask, anyway? ‘Hey, how’d you get all those dozens of scars?’ ‘Well, Joanne, this is what happens when you get snatched off the street by a bored sadist.’” She even used a funny voice for ‘Joanne’.

...Numb, that was how it made her feel. Like what happened to her body was entirely separate from what happened to her heart.

“Seems like it’d be obvious from looking that it’s not gonna be a fun story.”

He stepped back again, returning to leaning on the hot brick, likely the back of his hair would be stained with ash, but he'd wash it once he got home, god knows its already stained pink in the front from the blood he got splashed with helping out Nat.

"Local sadist, well, that certainly paints a lovely image. And Joanne is nosy, and sounds like she has a congestion problem." He commented looking to his finger tips. "I would say I am sorry, but I doubt you want sympathy. I know, I wouldn't. I would want revenge." He started honestly. "My next advice, do as my brother would, always say the other guy looks worse, and make up a different story each time your asked." He spoke in attempt to ease the mood. It usually worked with Kat.

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cw: explicit sex talk

This look, in the icon.

8’)

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cw: injury talk

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