23 November 2013 @ 07:30 pm
[ His little face is pale, voice a whisper. ]

Guys. She's here. She's going to fucking eat me, I swear. I only got away last time because she was distracted. She's here to fucking kill me so that Bethle can't have me, you have to fucking help me.

[ Seriously. Freakin' out here. ]

Watch out. She's overhead.



[[ooc; Will also be out and about and open to 4th wall. ]]
 
 
18 November 2013 @ 12:29 pm
[[ooc; Rather than try to backdate him, here's what I will do! Handwave.

Over the weekend Tallendi went around being a snot and bragging about his pure blood connections: aka his engagement to a known-for-nasty-family the Reynolds. (Black magic, cannibalism, monster hoarding, etc.) His fiancee Bethlehem Reynolds would have graduated recently. Tallendi's probably like a 4th year Slytherin.

Generally he was just... acting like Draco Malfoy, really. Feel free to have been insulted and to have retaliated in any way, feel free to have known Bethle in the school. Feel free. He's going to apologize now.]]





...look. I know I'm usually a dick, but I'm sorry for being that kind of dick. It doesn't fucking matter who your parents are, or if you're...

[ A pause. A shudder. ]

I'm not proud of... I'm not proud of them. They're fucking awful. I'm not like them. I'm nothing like them.

[ There's a plaintive note in his voice and really very sad look in his eyes that suggests his young age and wounded heart. He swallows roughly, and to crown this whole thing off, he adds cattily, ]

I'm sick of all this witch shit. Give me a break already....
 
 
07 November 2013 @ 11:30 am
[ He's been hiding for a while now, wandering the city and feeling enclosed, like he's about to be caught at any moment. The tick-tick-tick metronome of the clock has done him no good either, like the footsteps of something hideous following him everywhere. The witch is laughing in the back of his mind, always. Joined now by recent memories of once again residing within Momma's house. There is no escape. ]

Please let me out.

[ A pitiful little voice. ]
 
 
21 October 2013 @ 02:09 pm
[It takes the witches nothing to draw him in, the weak-hearted little boy who has already wandered into the mists of his own volition once before.]

[He doesn't look afraid, he just looks sorrowful and pale, and like his skin is pulled too tight on his bones. The scenery dancing around him is also fairly benign: a room made of pine trees, the corners dusty and cob-webbed. There's a large oak table in the center, the surface of it scuffed and cut from long years of use, but still a handsome and imposing piece of furniture. From somewhere, the flicker of a hearth glows, casting dancing shadows across the impenetrable wall of tree trunks.]

[There is no one there with him, but he speaks out loud in a dead little voice,]


I've done the laundry. I did not speak to anyone.

[Monotone, mechanically spaced words. And then his mouth twists into a grimace, his head ducking down like he is avoiding the cold gaze of something.]

I haven't fed them yet. [And then, the sound begins. Like a woman screaming. Tallendi winces again, eyes screwing shut, but when he opens them, his expression is empty again.]

Yes, Momma.

[He exchanges his device into some else's hands--boney and disembodied--taking instead a woven basket that drips red. The video follows him as he walks towards a hole in the black dirt floor, cavernous, endless, and descends out of sight.]
 
 
11 October 2013 @ 11:53 am
[He looks sickly, addressing the network, his skin clammy and his eyes sunken in. He looks pained as well, his mouth thin, brows creased.]

I... I need to go back. [He shudders, not because he's wet. (She's so angry, pulling so hard, like his chest is about to ripped apart, shredded by an angry beast of rust and barbs.)] I can't... be here.

[His eyes close, like he's trying to be more articulate, summon up the words, but instead he just gasps in pain, dropping the device as he himself clatters to the ground, clutching his chest.]

It's not my fault. I didn't do this...



[ooc; had to get it out of the way, his witch-bride is tres mad. Action welcome.]