Tonight, Hanna dreamed of crayon drawings.
He woke up in an empty piece of paper. Everything around him was white, like his drawing pad – except for the crayons at his feet. Their primary colors shone vividly in the light that came from nowhere. Well, that was a problem. Short, pudgy fingers plucked the yellow crayon from the ground and drew a sun in the sky. There.
He finished the last ray, smiled, and then picked up the red crayon. He would draw his house, next. It wasn’t clear why this was a good idea, but Hanna, sweet child as he was, simply followed his brain’s directions. Two sides to the house, a roof, and a door were quickly scrawled in front of him; as soon as he’d finished, he reached forward. To his great surprise, the door pushed open to reveal his home! Hanna ventured inside, looking around with wondering eyes. Everything was similar to the house outline he’d drawn – made in crayon, but somehow three-dimensional. He could sit on the couch, he could turn on the television, he could play with the stuffed animals strewn about the floor. It was a bit lonely, though. Everything was silent, except for the noises of the TV. Suddenly, a pot banged in the kitchen.
Hanna wandered in, looking for the source of the noise, but gasped in surprise. Lamont was there! “Daddy!”
“Ah, hello, kiddo,” the man grinned, looking away from his cooking to ruffle the boy’s hair. Lamont wasn’t made of crayon, but he interacted with the crayon-objects just as Hanna did. The smell of something tasty wafted down from the stove. “Almost time for dinner. You hungry?” Hanna nodded, and Lamont ushered him to the table after he’d washed his hands in crayon-water. A plate was set before him, and crayon-pasta put on top of that. Hanna ate voraciously; he felt as if he hadn’t eaten all day. Lamont chuckled.
The doorbell rang. “Oh- be right back,” Lamont said, leaving to get the door. Hanna heard familiar voices, then both Lamont and the visitor returned.
“Uncle Worth!” the boy cried, leaping up from the table to run over and throw his arms around a bone-thin leg.
The recalcitrant doctor simply muttered, “Yeah, yeah, ‘lo to you too,” in his usual manner.
After a moment of snuggling into the fabric of Worth’s pants, Hanna released him. “Can we play a game, Daddy?” Lamont said of course they could. “Hide and seek!” he grinned, and promptly ran off to hide.
In the crayon-bathtub, behind the crayon-drapes, under the crayon-bed – Hanna looked through potential hiding spots and eventually chose the crayon-closet, nestled between crayon-coats. He giggled at hearing Lamont pass, Worth grumbling good-naturedly behind him. Suddenly, the door flew open and light poured in. “Gotcha!” Lamont called, scooping up the wriggling boy and carrying him, upside-down, to the couch, where he gently set him down and began a vicious tickle-attack. Hanna screeched and laughed in protest, pawing at the intruding hands, and eventually Lamont settled on blowing a raspberry against his stomach and sitting next to him. Worth took the rocking chair in the corner, long legs splayed like a resting spider.
“Almost bedtime, kiddo. Go get in your pajamas.” Lamont gave Hanna a gentle push toward his room, where the boy found crayon-pajamas waiting for him on the bed. He put them on, marveling at how the odd, colored fabric moved over his skin, then climbed up into bed as his father entered to tuck him in. Crayon-bedclothes were spread generously over him and a light kiss was placed upon his head. “Sleep tight, Hanna,” Lamont smiled, “Love you.”
“Love you too, Daddy,” Hanna replied, and quickly fell asleep against plush crayon-pillows.
simplyprofessional replied to your post: A bat flutters into the window, slamming loudly and falling to the ground outside the front door.The creature was drooped over a bush, unmoving.
Ples wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t fear bites or scratches; getting sick was rather a challenge these days, but he didn’t want to risk further injury by trying to move it. He crouched and got as close as he could to the bat, examining the body for any potential issues. If it looked too broken, he would not touch it.
Disguised-Casimiro squeaked pitifully, wriggling pathetically.
Oh, seems the fellow was all right, just a bit confused and tangled. Ples tried his best to gently remove the bat from the bush.
He scrabbled weakly at Ples’ hands, tiny fingers catching on his arm-spats, and hauled himself into the man’s hands.
((Ask politely twice, then resort to not-nicely asking him, then resort to physical means. Ie, taking his drink or punching him in the stomach.))
oh i was just gonna deck him in the face right off
IS THAT NOT RIGHT….
((Yes, but ‘tis more polite to give him two or three strikes first.))
Meanwhile, in Latvia (cont.)
[I wanted to clarify a few things about this piece. This piece is Out Of Timeline, meaning that whatever Matthew wishes to say about Enigma’s presence or lack thereof can be counted as truth. This is simply something to keep me active while not having to check replies too much. <3 She is still at home, with Matthew, etc.; this story is simply a fun way for me to stay active.
Furthermore, all Meanwhile, in Latvia pieces will be tagged with ‘meanwhile in latvia’.]
After perhaps twenty minutes of walking - Enigma couldn’t tell; she didn’t wear a watch - the hunter had managed to find several makeshift tin-and-wood houses, but all were deserted. Empty and silent, not clad in furniture, and slowly decomposing. No one had lived here for a while, then. She frowned, shuffling at a thick layer of dust with her boot. It was hot and dry, and, as loathe as she was to head back out into the sun under all her layers, it was the only way she was going to find water - or anyone to ask for directions.
She sighed and trudged back out the door, following the single dirt road again.
Meanwhile, in Latvia
[During my hiatus, I’ve decided that a fun game to play would be to have Enigma gone on a trip. On playing the Mapcrunch airport game and getting stuck in backwoods Latvia forever, I’ve decided that Enigma will randomly find herself stuck in Latvia. I will do my best to chronicle her adventures. -Peabody]
Enigma blinked, sitting up on the dirt road. What had happened? One minute, she had been sitting at home, filing bills: the next, she was here. But where was here…?
Well, she wouldn’t find out sitting here. Standing, she gave a contemptuous brush to the dirt clinging to her jeans and zipped her jacket up all the way before beginning walking down the road. If she could figure out where she was, she could find a way home. Maybe she could find an airport. Given her surroundings, though, it didn’t seem likely. Not for a while, anyway.
((Announcing a semi-hiatus for an unscheduled amount of time. I may be on here and there, might pop on to answer the threads I’ve got going, but don’t expect a continuous conversation. I’m terribly sorry for any convenience, but crunch time is here in my schooling.
Love you, duckies!))
connieachenleck and winchesterisnotagirlsname started following you
[Sam watched the ferret closely before giving her a smile, no harm telling the truth. Or maybe there was. Dean didn’t really give him a brief on what he was supposed to say] A little bit of everything but honestly, me and my brother are hunters.
She raised her eyebrows. “Never met another hunter who’d outright say it before. I like the up-front-ness. I and my husband are also hunters. Vampires, mostly, but whatever else may get in the way is fair game. I think you’ll find this city infested.”
Infested? Just like that strange girl mentioned. Sam gave a small smile in turn anyway, nodding at her. “I was made aware, but really any move we make depends entirely on Dean.” Focusing on the objective was Sam’s job, Dean telling him which baddie they were going to gack was Dean’s territory. “I’ve meet a couple of hunters before but I didn’t know there were only ones that fought Vamps. Is that like a revenge thing?” Like Gordon?
“Who is that? Do you ever get to make a decision?” The ferret scurried down the woman’s shoulders, skittering to the floor, and ran up to Sam’s shoe to begin a thorough investigation of it and its brother. “I hunt other things when they get in my way, but my focus is vampires. It’s easier for me to specialize that way.
“No,” she continued, “I exterminate vampires because they are a menace to humans, and I am a human. I fight to keep my race alive and well. Besides, vampires steal their bloated lives from those who rightfully deserve them. I find this an outrage.”
“O-oh, um… Okay, thanks.”
The dhampir probably would have been absolutely floored by how much the suits cost, though given that he might react that way to some of the clothes at the mall, it was really expected. He really hoped they didn’t go to the mall.
“Erm… A-are there dressing rooms…?”
“Of course, sir.” The clerk led him to the room in which measurements had taken place and gave him his suit. After a bit, it became apparent that Matthew had no idea how to properly put on all the accouterments that became a suit, and the poor salesman had to help him learn which bits were but on first and what tucked into what. This was, of course, the second part of what Enigma had paid for; she considered this knowledge for Matthew quite worth the cost of suits.
It would probably take him a few tries at least to remember everything, and a Google search every time he needed to tie a tie for a while, but at least he was trying. The dhampir felt a little bit silly though, changing out of his dress, and he tried his best to not think about what the clerk might be thinking. After asking if it was alright to do so, Matthew stepped back out of the room in the suit, and cautiously called Enigma over.
“…How does this look?”
The look on Enigma’s face could accurately be described as a mix between admiration, surprise, and the look one gets when they’re about to steal the entire chocolate cake from the rest of the party and eat it themselves. “Lovely.” This was, of course, Enigma’s way of saying that she very, very much liked it indeed.
If the girl was lying was no business of hers; Enigma couldn’t care less as long as it didn’t affect her family or harm other humans. “Right. Run a soup kitchen, do you?”
She rolls her eyes in return. ”That’s preposterous, and you’re not amusing, miss.” The Witch absent-mindedly taps her fingers against her thigh in a tick-tock rhythm - this world is not short on magic, and she has such energy it’s hard to contain.
“I generally don’t intend to be.” Enigma’s face remained blank. “I would warn you that this city is infested with supernaturals, but you have most likely found this out.”
That’s replied to with a subtle shrug. ”That’s really not all that unusual; it’s not like I’ll take lasting harm.” It appears to be a contest of who can school their face to be more emotionless, at this point.
“Why is that?” Honestly curious, Enigma reached up to pet the ferret on her shoulder.
Avery started rubbing the woman’s shoulders and back again when she began shouting. “I’ve forgiven you a lot of things. I f-forgive others rather easily. Myself… d-definitely not so much.” He paused, and thought about what she said for a moment. “I’m sorry it’s like that, Enigma. I am. B-but… it never seems like you want any sort of forgiveness. I m-mean, if you believe they’re monsters a-and only deserve to die, why would they think it would bother you when th-they think of you and treat you like that? A-also, you don’t know much about what happens in th-the supernatural community here. You’re s-sort of detached from it. There are a l-lot of misgivings and much blame put on others. People rarely admit to being wrong. You create excuses as well. To hurt people. Kill. Life is all excuses, really.”
“They convince their human compatriots.” Enigma sagged under the massage, sighing heavily. “And I am detached because I have no need to become close to those who or whose companions I will have to exterminate.
“But… Thank you.” She really was thankful to have someone acknowledge that part of the way she was seen was due to others’ bias.
“W-well, a lot of the time it s-seems like you want their approval f-for what you do. A-and if that’s really how you feel, I d-don’t know why you’re interested in h-having me around. The majority of people in my life are those you hunt.” At least she had acknowledged that she knew that he was prepared to go to any lengths to prevent harm from reaching Cassie. From his other friends. “R-really, you just need to stop getting s-so easily angered a-and o-overreacting. It’s only g-going to get you or your husband h-hurt. You should be discreet and s-silent when hunting. Drawing attention t-to yourself just makes you a bigger target a-and a rallying point. There are more members of the supernatural community i-in this city than there are hunters.”
She folded her arms. “It’s difficult. I try to. But I hoped to remain friends with you because it is… Nice, to say I have more than two people. Neither Matthew nor Odette are really… Mature enough, sometimes, for certain things.”
At this, she flat out turned around, face hard. “Do you know how many supernaturals I’ve hunted this month, Avery? Really? You all assume it’s such a large number. Like I’m a huge threat. That I draw attention to all the kills I make. I have exterminated one supernatural this month, Avery. And one last month, teo. And none the month before that. Do you really think I’m that big of a threat? Really? You all attach this stigma to me because of a job that I barely do.”
Working on that, actually.
And yes. Been interrogated a couple of times, too. Let me guess, you’re wondering what we are?
I had assumed you were human. Being a hunter, I find it necessary to warn most of the dangers of vampires, should they not be prepared for them.
In any case, as long as you do not harm humans, you are welcome in my home. I have a spare room kept for those who need it.
Well I’m not a… *gestures* …vampire or whatever. Neither is my partner.
*he frowned* I try and make it my business not to hurt anybody anymore. You’ve got nothing to worry about from us.
Very well. Then contact me if you need shelter.
What is it you do now, then?
He smiled faintly and wrapped his arms around her. “I forgive you… You didn’t know that’s what was happening.”
Her hand began stroking his hair slowly, twisting strands around its fingers. “Mm.”
Matthew hummed happily and nuzzled her again. “Really, Eni… Don’t beat yourself up over it, o-okay?”
“If you ask me.” She pecked him on the cheek, and, seeing that he was about to protest again, shushed him quietly and moved her mouth to cover his.