"Come in."

//read the intro post! this homeowner looks like an au, and it kind of is, but a lot of things happened for him to look like that! mod is 🇧🇷

[a-hermit-ish]

You better leave. Come in.

"Ask anything, I guess..."

ooc under the cut!

Long ahh thing ahead, but I think it's worthy reading it all! Or you can just jump to the last part (after moodboard)

You guys can call me Chaos/Wisdom, and I go by he/him and they/them and am +20 :3

Small reminder that this RP account is purely for my own fun! I have a lot of headcanons for Hermit so I'm like 90% sure that I'll be out of character (even more so because of recent events), so if you're searching somewhere where protag is canon like, this place is NOT for you! My main headcanons is that his name is Mikhail (Misha for close "friends"), and as you can see if you're new around, he's more like an alt homeowner (read more about him under mood board)

I'm alright with canon x oc or canon x canon, go wild! BUT i probably won't go forward if the character is fem cause I'm hella gay and I wouldn't feel comfortable with it, sorry ladies 💔

DNI rules are the basic I guess, don't be an asshole, don't send asks about r*pe, don't be disrespectful in general. I don't have remorse in blocking people.

Besides that, have fun! :D

꒰˖My tags!˖꒱

꒰˖ "visitag" - for when hermit was turned into a visitor by a magic anon

꒰˖ "Misha lore :p" - relevant things for this hermit's lore

꒰˖ "Dear Diary." - Common writing, literal blog logs

꒰˖ "pale freak (slash affectionate)" - Special tag for the pale visitor

꒰˖ "chaos!hermit" - tag for this homeowner

More to be added!

Pretty mood board ☝️

And small lore add because a lot of things happened!

He was turned into a dog like visitor in December/2025 for a week, and then he was turned back into a half human, with a few sequels from this transformation

In january/2026 he died (was discussed previously) and turned into half a visitor and half creature from @/arimax001 kind (also discussed previously), so yeah, Mikhail is pretty much my oc now, and if you don't fw with it, don't bother with interacting

You will find things about important things in the tags "Misha lore :p" and "visitag", also starting to add chaos!hermit tag to mark past transformation Misha (chaos bc that's my nickname so it's my version of him)

AND THIS POST IS VERY IMPORTANT OKAY, CHECK IT

And this post is the new house, now that I think more about it it's kinda like a mansion

[a-hermit-ish]

"The river behind the Hermit's hill. Tommorow. Find me."

*Lucie's rotting hands stained the paper she read again and again. The task was easy, and the promise exhilarating !

Outside of the school, she felt stronger. What could happen to her ? She was a scary visitor ! Nothing to fear anymore, she was the danger !

Or was she ? She had no idea of what lurked in the shadows. Crazy humans, vengeful vigilantes, F.E.M.A... But also monsters, visitors beyond her comprehension... She was lucky to still be alive.

And he was lucky too.

She found him quite easily. Her eyes were growing blind and blinder by the day, due to the cataract and the decomposition fluids building inside those, but her ears were compensating quite formidably.

She heard him breathing before he was even able to see her. But she wasnt quiet, quite clumsy and carefree, and surely he heard her too. Especially when she started calling for him.*

- Hey !!! Mysterious persooon !!! Where are yooou ?

*She knew who and where he was, of course, as she was staring right at him. Her amused smile told how she just wanted to mess with him a little.

That girl was so confident nothing bad could ever happen around the Old House.*

- @tie-girl-lucie

The sound of his chuckle guides her closer to where he is, sitting down on a rock with his feet inside the water with his tail swaying in amusement.

"It's nice to see you too, Lucie."

Mikhail looked way better than the day he left, besides having a few wounds and scars here and there and his blue sweater being quite torn and stained, he looked... Happy, almost.

Hopping down and making the water splash a little, he makes his way back to the riverbank, easily spotting the purple skinned girl and looking down at her with a small smile.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

[a-hermit-ish]

is the homeowner okay with like open relationships with more than one person?

Yep

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

Luminous eyes stare at you from the darkness.

*The night was quiet.

Ilya saw It before they could even have a chance to hear It approach.

Whatever It was, It was a predator.

Front facing eyes, refracting the yellow light coming from the school's porch. Silent steps, despite a tall figure. Or so the former agent figured, judging by how high those glowing eyes were. The rest of the figure was hidden in the shadows.

Not a bird, not a cat, not a lost soul around. It was something else, staring at them from the other side of the empty street. Nothing but a light up school, full of life, and a man in hazmat, sat tiredly on the first step leading to the main dorm.

But not a harmless man.

The former-FEMA put the sniper's night visor against their eye. Through the green screen, they could see better. And get a better idea of what It was.

The visor light from the sniper fell on It.

They were now staring at each other.*

[a-hermit-ish]

"It took you long enough to notice me."

Mikhail's voice sounded familiar, yet unsettling. Just like when it's been a long time since you last saw someone and just started forgetting what they sound like. The silence between them is thicker now. Thicker than the hermit's old and torn blue sweater and dark pants, it looks like everything is stained with blood in some places. Was it really a surprise to see that his new weapons were arrows and a bow, with a few hunting knifes on his belt?

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*It took Ilya to hear It speak to, finally, recognize him.

The shock made them take a step back. They still held him at gunpoint, the little green dot was cleanly set in between his glowing eyes, ready.

They saw through the night visor with clarity. It was him. Without a doubt. His face. His ears. His tail. His high stature. His old sweater. The blood was new, tho, but unsurprising. His weapons were a novelty, tho : wasnt his whole body a killing machine, now ?

They held their ground, unsure on the correct thing to do.

They werent really old friends. But not ennemies, either. And Ilya, often, missed him, like you miss a brother you never liked but who was part of the picture for so long his absence felt wrong. Like you miss a thorn at your side. Like you miss a broken arm.

At his little mockery, the former-FEMA grimaced sourly. He was right. They were tired and unfocused, they could have been killed so stupidly. Poor protector for this school. Maybe the only choice, or one of them.

The silence was thick. The both of them were waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Nothing happened.*

- ... I take it you're not here to kill me, then, old man.

*Ilya was no match : exhausted, they were but the shell of the "man" Mikhail once knew. Their arm was healed, now, and they were alive, but the "wins" stopped there. Eyes deep in orbits, a few pounds lost, and an exhaustion on their face showing they held their responsabilities with great care, and little help.*

- ... ... ... So you're alive.

*At that, the former-FEMA... Smilled ?

Yes, this was a little smile on their ugly face. Not a big, welcoming hug, but a bastardy little smug. Warm enough, with eyes sparkling just enough, to take place of any kind of grand gesture they both would hate anyway.

It meant "welcome back."*

[a-hermit-ish]

Ilya calling him an old man catched him slightly out of guard, making him chuckle, his tail swaying lazily behind him and the slight tension on his shoulders melting away.

He looks around for a moment, taking in the sight of the school; he never dared to come this close to it, even less approaching someone like he's doing right now.

His eyes come back to the person in front of him, the small smile still on his lips.

"So are you, and I hope most of everyone inside?"

It was an almost delicate way of asking if anyone died while he was out. The thought of anyone passing left a bitter taste in his mouth, but there's he can do about it now, Mikhail has his own demons and he needed time away from everyone to figure out what to do with them.

"One thing I know at least is that Pax left too. But I know she's sabe wherever she is... But this isn't really about her, how is everyone doing?

He finally steps closer, keeping his posture as relaxed as it can be when they're outside, approaching Ilya until he's sitting down right beside them.

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*With a solemn nod, Ilya answered, finally lowering the gun, until it layed peacefully at their side. They sat back on the step with a groan. Their broad shoulders never relaxed. The frown was permanent on their face. They gained a new, huge scar on their throat, a band going around as if getting them ready for beheading. It made their voice hoarse and manlier. Their hair grew longer and they aged five years in one.

Mikhail changed, too. They lived one hundred lives. How much was left of the versions of themselves who last spoke ? What was it even about ? Ilya couldn't remember.

But still they smilled proudly, puffing up slightly, as if giving a good report to a superior.*

- We got more new faces than missing cases. Some left, very few died. We managed.

*It was pretty clear, from the former-FEMA's level of exhaustion, and the lights and sounds coming from inside the school, that this was a big community. Even bigger than when He left. Ilya tried to remember, to keep track, there maybe was... Fifteen new faces, now ? Twenty ? And what about the ones who "turned", did they count as dead ? And those who just dissapeared ? Did anyone really kept some reccords ? Or was the lose of Teddy, Angus and Beetle enough for everyone to forget about getting attached ?

In the former-FEMA's eyes danced some lights of anger. Complaints. Fears. Needs. A whole monologue they prepared carefully, words they couldn't adress at anyone else, words that made their chest ache and their shoulder tense even more. For months they held them preciously in their throat for the right moment to implode.

[How could you abandon us all ? How could you abandon ME ? I found this place and now I'm taking care of kids, teenagers, young adults, visitors, all mentally ill, all desperate, while you, Pax and Alex live free in the wild. You all left me. Weren't we supposed to be a safety nest for all of them ? Weren't we supposed to be the pillars holding up the roof above their heads ? You all crumbled around me and left me in charge in your place. It wasnt my role. I was not made for this. I was the worst choice possible to take those responsabilities, remember ? I had to step up for YOU. Maybe you never liked me but look, now, how I managed YOUR guests ! Your community ! Your people ! I took care of them, I fed them, I healed them, I protected them, mostly by myself. And now you come back, and everyone will gather around you once again and praise you, because you are so loved and admired even when you give up on people.]

And yet Ilya loved and admired him, too.

And yet they kept those words preciously for themselves, stuck in their chest, the fire keeping them warm.

And just like an abandonned dog still wags it's tail when it's owner finally comes back for them, Ilya welcomed Mikhail Home. With a smile. With a place by their side.

Ilya always wished to be just this. A shepherd's dog, helping with the flock. Nothing more. But the sheperd left one day without a word. And now that he came back, wild and wolf-like, then, what was supposed to happen ? Was Ilya right to lower the gun ?*

- ... Most still remembers you.

*The old faces. Arseni. Lasha. Artie. Pink. Pearl. Nadya. Timofey. Spiral. Koda. Irene. Abbot. The Rook. The Chainsmocker. Ferris. Bee. Mickael. All the others. Orders of arrival in the community were a blur for Ilya's tired brain.

But they remembered their line perfectly.*

- ... Do you wish to come in ?

[a-hermit-ish]

Turning to stare at them when he sits down and puts his weapon aside, Mikhail finally takes a moment to actually look at them. He takes in how exhausted Ilya looks like, how it looks like they've been carrying the weight of the whole world on their back with not much than a "thanks" in exchange.

It's not like Mikhail is much better, he looks more used to being a creature now, yes, but he still looks kinda beaten up, considering new scars and healing wounds here and there on his arms, now visible in the lights of the school.

He nods along when they mention that few people were lost, he wasn't sure what he expected, but he's glad that apparently almost everyone is alright.

"That's great. You did a good job keeping them safe, Ilya."

Mikhail knows his words are probably not much, he knows that he shouldn't have just left like that, that he should have said something more, but in the state of mind he was when it happened, how could he? The hermit could just pray for them to stay safe while he was away.

"I'm... Sorry. For leaving like that. I probably should have explained what was happening with me, but if stayed any longer I would have probably killed someone. Or myself."

He looks up at the night sky, the breeze of the night was nice against his skin. Heavens, how is he going to explain himself to everyone? He was a raging mess of hormones and emotions when he left, the time he spent alone helped him regulate himself again, but he still left them and they would be all alone if it weren't for Ilya taking care of the things.

Mikhail is truly grateful to them. More than he could put into words.

"I'm proud of you. For taking care of everything even if it's too much. I've watched from afar a few times, you didn't let them down even after everything."

Words are not his strong suit, but he tries anyway, he tries to put the maximum amount of emotion he can on his usually dry voice. He's even tempted to pull them into a hug, even if he doesn't like physical contact much, but he's not sure how they would react. He still leaves his body language open for approaching anyway.

"Oh, so polite of you to invite me in."

He chuckles, his sharp teeth not looking so threatening when he's smiling like that. This is probably the most times Ilya ever saw him smiling, time alone really did miraculous things to him, huh?

"Yeah, I would like to get inside. But you should get in first to have some rest. I can stay on watch until dawn, it's only a few hours away anyway."

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*Even when simply sitting at their side, Mikhail towered over Ilya, casting a shadow over them.

He reeked of blood and wilderness. The true form of the Hermit : a thing of the woods. A lone wolf coming back to his sheep. But his voice, his words, his heart, so tamed and domesticated, pacified the guard dog, who left their weapon a bit beyond armreach. A quiet sign of trust.

He needed a shower. Maybe a medical checkup. Maybe a meal. But certainly not judgement. Not yet. And not like that.

As opposed as possible from him, Ilya smelled clean, civilised. Something like a fancy new shampoo, and the chemical smell of detergents and desinfectant. This meant there was now an infirmary in this place. A well running one, surely, with this many people around. The faint smell of different bloods and chemicals stained Ilya's hazmat. Where they the nurse and surgeon of the place, on top of everything else ? It seemed, as they couldnt help but check up the old homeowner for the source of such bleeding. They noticed all the new scars, took note of the fresher ones on his arms, for later care. If he wished to receive it, of course.

The silence streched a little over the both of them, like a comfortable blanket. The gentle wind made the dry tree branchs creak and sing.

Ilya finally spoke, voice cracking a little.*

- ... ... ... I think I needed to hear that.

*They took a sip out of a thermos by their side. What could be coffee, in fact, smelled sweet like chocolate and spices. They weren't thristy, but needed an excuse, some time to think about their next words.

Congratulations. Praise. Being seen. Being held as some kind of heroic figure, for a change. It felt so good, so rewarding, so relieving to finally have someone understand the position they were in. And, as opposed as they were about almost anything, Ilya and Mikhail, alone, shared this weight, those responsabilities.

And him alone could fully understand the way their heart ached for the few who didnt make it. So many were alive, so many were happy, but it was never enough. Was it unforgivable to not have a perfect 100% survival rate ? Was it a sin to be proud of your succes, when some died under your care ?*

- I wished I had done even better, but... Thank you, Mikhail. I really needed that. I... I finally get it, you know. Why you left.

*Straight to the point. With a delicate side eye, understanding, sad, and relieved all at once, they continued.*

- To be honnest, I always imagined you killed yourself.

*There. They admited it. Why they were so scared to see him. To recognize his voice. To admit it was truly him and not some deformed, cruel copy.*

- I firmly believed you put us all in this new place to survive without you and that, free from that burden, you went back to your lonely house atop of the hill and... Bang.

*The former-FEMA mimicked the gesture of shooting their own head, two finger pressed undernearh their chin, where the skin was tender, where their new scar was more visible.

The silence stretched once more. They weren't done talking. They had so much to say. They never even believed they would have the opportunity to speak those words, ever.*

- ... I considered it, often. Leaving.

*A shameful confession. Something they never told anyone else. Not even the ones closest to their heart.*

- But I couldnt. I... met some people I just cannot leave behind. I have a kid who misses me when I'm not here. And... A partner.

*They said with a shy smile, cheeks a dusty rosy shade on their tan skin. It took the Apocalypse for Ilya to, finally, build this family they wished so dearly for. And the eyes Mikhail only knew full of fear, anger and pride, were now inhabited by love that stored itself in every crevices it could find in them.

And when Mikhail smilled with all his teeth, Ilya mimicked him, again. They couldnt help but mock, the ironic tone they always used to have with him. Constant bickering. They missed that.*

- Really ? ... Coming back just to stay here alone at the porch ? You missed the night shift this much ? Well, arlight then, I won't complain !

*They said, but didnt get up. Not even pretending to leave. Not right now. Not like that.*

[a-hermit-ish]

Mikhail tried not to pay much attention to how he probably looked and smelt like he went through hell, because he kind of did went through it, really, but he's not sure when he'll be ready to talk about that.

Now that it came to his mind, he should probably start thinking ways of building up traps around the school, of how to enhance security without tiring anyone out even more. Yet, be should fall back on the "homeowner" mindset, to make sure everyone knew that are things out there worse than what they've seen until now. Other kinds of super visitors that are gruesome and unmerciful, without any trace that could resemble humanity.

At the sound of their voice, his tail comes to rest closer, just behind Ilya, almost wrapping around them, a small way to acknowledge their pain too. A small "It's okay. I see you.", on his own 'hermit' way.

"... I can't say I haven't considered it."

He says quietly, he had a rough time shortly after leaving, but something always made him back off. Made him pull the gun's safety lock back on instead of shooting.

Humming while listening to the former-FEMA, Mikhail smiles softly when they mention having people that made them want to stay.

"You're really a strong person, Ilya. I'm happy that you were able to find your place in this mess. I fear I haven't found mine yet."

Mikhail considers himself a weak man. He wasn't good strong enough to have fighter his father off earlier, wasn't enough to keep a fake marriage with Vera, wasn't enough to keep his own people safe.

The hermit knows that most usually see him as someone steady, someone that they could lean on and rest for a while, and yes, Mikhail would never deny a shoulder to someone who needs it, but he doesn't think that this gives him a role in the community he accidentally pulled together with a few bullets and bandages. He hopes that he can be like them someday, that he can find someone that makes him truly want to stay.

He snorts at their answer to his offer to stay on watch for the rest of the night, shoving their shoulders lightly, because maybe he did miss it.

"I am being serious, though. You look like you could use a few night for yourself, I've certainly had enough for me."

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*Mikhail, quite by coincidence, arrived just in the time for Change.

Another soul within this ever growing community wanted to protect the place : Ignazio, a little prodigee Ilya had yet to meet. They, themselves, had plans for "better co-habitation" within the school, and wanted to propose their solutions later down the line. The world was changing again, in a very small scale : theirs. This community. This People.

Ignoring everything about those new horrors awaiting for a break in the wall to set Hell loose on them, Ilya was getting a tiny bit more comfortable with the "domesticated visitors" around. They still needed to find a way for those "special needs guests" to fight their own instincts and hunger, to avoid any new inccident. The Rookie one made them think, and think again. How to forgive Arkadij and include a beloved but dangerous guest back into this home ? Physical separation was their solution. A good old prison. Was this the good moment to tell Mikhail about this idea ? No, not yet. He just came back ! He needed basic needs taken care off and a peacefull arriving. As peacefull as possible, in those times.

Side-eyeing his every moove, not for defense but with curiosity, Ilya smiled some more at this delicate display of affection. Not invasive like a hug, wich would make them uncomfortable, it was just enough to mean he cared. How lucky they were, to finally see him again. First. Kind of an honor, no ? To be the ear to catch his secrets ? To be finally trusted ? To finally deserve it ?

At his difficult confession, they nodded in understanding. Nothing to add to that. A place in the world... What could a Hermit wish it to be ? Wasnt being Lonely the whole point ?*

- ... Right. We chased you from your place, from your own Home, after all. So greedy, all asking for your help, for your protection, your food, your attention, without offering anything else in return. Not even an ear. A bunch of very selfish people, so sure we deserved better than our fates. No wonder you drowned. You never asked for this.

*Ilys strerched, their muscles invisible under the large hazmat protecting their secret, but ever aching, every reminding them of their presence. It was so good to finally use this arm without pain ! They felt like a cat in the sun, way less tensed and anxious now that someone else was here with them. Now that they weren't so alone.*

- I could have been nicer when we first met. I regret it to this day.

*The way they antagonized each other. The FEMA traitor, worthy of trust from neither side, playing their own game rather badly, rude, aggressive, scared and full of strong opions. The Hermit, cold and unnaprocheable, trigger-happy, unwilling to give them a chance without something tangible in return. Now, Ilya understood why. They put water in their wine. Calmed down. Came to experience how it was, to feel it, and now, to repent.

A light shove on their shoulder made them quit those melancholic thoughts, pulling them back into reality. It wasn't so dark, after all. They snickered in answer.*

- If you're so sure ! But what do I tell the others inside, then ? Do I spoil the surprise ? Or do you want some grand, dramatic reveal at breakfast ?

*"heeey guys I just gave up my job because I really need to sleep, no other reason. By the way, BIG reunion tommorow morning. For fun. No other reason."

But oh, how they craved a good night of sleep. Ten whole hours of peace and quiet. A warm embrace around the one they loved most. A nightmare-less slumber. Waking up feeling rested and ready for the day. This was the dream !*

[a-hermit-ish]

At their words, his mind drifts to the past again, thinking of everything that ever happened and brought them to this moment. It almost makes him want to laugh until he's in tears like has happened before.

"I guess no one ever asked for all of this to happen, right?"

His voice doesn't sounds as dry as he wished it to be, leaking more emotions than it would have just a few months ago. If someone told him a few years ago that he would go through the apocalypse and be in this situation, Mikhail would probably have shot them dead without much thought.

Once again, his thoughts take another turn, the memory of Pax hammering him again. The hermit should pay her a visit soon, to apologize for leaving without seeing Anya and to gossip and catch up what have happened on the past months.

His expression softens slightly when Ilya mentions the first time they met.

"I'm sure we both could have been nicer to each other."

Mikhail knows he should have been nicer to a lot of people, but let's just say he wasn't mentally prepared to be a safe heaven for people going through the apocalypse and new traumas every few days.

When in the forest, he had gone days without shelter, picking up fights with whatever gruesome visitor that he saw on his way. Maybe that helped him cool off any rage he had in him, both from being whatever he was for these people and from way before. What a funny thought, isn't it? A beast that was now docile because if spent all of its bite on some poor bastards.

The "home" Ilya mentions was never really a home for him, it was just a house with few good memories. It was good that they made him leave, in fact.

Mikhail lived on a cave for a while after , and it was more of a home for him than the house he grew in, and he was sleeping on a literal nest of rocks and moss for weeks.

"Well, a dramatic reveal is a bit too much, and I'm also sure that anyone curious enough will come outside to check and will see me right here. I'm not exactly small, y'know? Although I can hide really well, I was staring at you for good 10 minutes before you noticed me."

He teases them with a side eye, he can almost feel the exhaustion exhaling from them at the thought of finally resting.

"So, yeah. I guess you can "spoil the surprise", whatever you mean with that, 'cause I ain't no surprise."

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

Luminous eyes stare at you from the darkness.

*The night was quiet.

Ilya saw It before they could even have a chance to hear It approach.

Whatever It was, It was a predator.

Front facing eyes, refracting the yellow light coming from the school's porch. Silent steps, despite a tall figure. Or so the former agent figured, judging by how high those glowing eyes were. The rest of the figure was hidden in the shadows.

Not a bird, not a cat, not a lost soul around. It was something else, staring at them from the other side of the empty street. Nothing but a light up school, full of life, and a man in hazmat, sat tiredly on the first step leading to the main dorm.

But not a harmless man.

The former-FEMA put the sniper's night visor against their eye. Through the green screen, they could see better. And get a better idea of what It was.

The visor light from the sniper fell on It.

They were now staring at each other.*

[a-hermit-ish]

"It took you long enough to notice me."

Mikhail's voice sounded familiar, yet unsettling. Just like when it's been a long time since you last saw someone and just started forgetting what they sound like. The silence between them is thicker now. Thicker than the hermit's old and torn blue sweater and dark pants, it looks like everything is stained with blood in some places. Was it really a surprise to see that his new weapons were arrows and a bow, with a few hunting knifes on his belt?

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*It took Ilya to hear It speak to, finally, recognize him.

The shock made them take a step back. They still held him at gunpoint, the little green dot was cleanly set in between his glowing eyes, ready.

They saw through the night visor with clarity. It was him. Without a doubt. His face. His ears. His tail. His high stature. His old sweater. The blood was new, tho, but unsurprising. His weapons were a novelty, tho : wasnt his whole body a killing machine, now ?

They held their ground, unsure on the correct thing to do.

They werent really old friends. But not ennemies, either. And Ilya, often, missed him, like you miss a brother you never liked but who was part of the picture for so long his absence felt wrong. Like you miss a thorn at your side. Like you miss a broken arm.

At his little mockery, the former-FEMA grimaced sourly. He was right. They were tired and unfocused, they could have been killed so stupidly. Poor protector for this school. Maybe the only choice, or one of them.

The silence was thick. The both of them were waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Nothing happened.*

- ... I take it you're not here to kill me, then, old man.

*Ilya was no match : exhausted, they were but the shell of the "man" Mikhail once knew. Their arm was healed, now, and they were alive, but the "wins" stopped there. Eyes deep in orbits, a few pounds lost, and an exhaustion on their face showing they held their responsabilities with great care, and little help.*

- ... ... ... So you're alive.

*At that, the former-FEMA... Smilled ?

Yes, this was a little smile on their ugly face. Not a big, welcoming hug, but a bastardy little smug. Warm enough, with eyes sparkling just enough, to take place of any kind of grand gesture they both would hate anyway.

It meant "welcome back."*

[a-hermit-ish]

Ilya calling him an old man catched him slightly out of guard, making him chuckle, his tail swaying lazily behind him and the slight tension on his shoulders melting away.

He looks around for a moment, taking in the sight of the school; he never dared to come this close to it, even less approaching someone like he's doing right now.

His eyes come back to the person in front of him, the small smile still on his lips.

"So are you, and I hope most of everyone inside?"

It was an almost delicate way of asking if anyone died while he was out. The thought of anyone passing left a bitter taste in his mouth, but there's he can do about it now, Mikhail has his own demons and he needed time away from everyone to figure out what to do with them.

"One thing I know at least is that Pax left too. But I know she's sabe wherever she is... But this isn't really about her, how is everyone doing?

He finally steps closer, keeping his posture as relaxed as it can be when they're outside, approaching Ilya until he's sitting down right beside them.

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*With a solemn nod, Ilya answered, finally lowering the gun, until it layed peacefully at their side. They sat back on the step with a groan. Their broad shoulders never relaxed. The frown was permanent on their face. They gained a new, huge scar on their throat, a band going around as if getting them ready for beheading. It made their voice hoarse and manlier. Their hair grew longer and they aged five years in one.

Mikhail changed, too. They lived one hundred lives. How much was left of the versions of themselves who last spoke ? What was it even about ? Ilya couldn't remember.

But still they smilled proudly, puffing up slightly, as if giving a good report to a superior.*

- We got more new faces than missing cases. Some left, very few died. We managed.

*It was pretty clear, from the former-FEMA's level of exhaustion, and the lights and sounds coming from inside the school, that this was a big community. Even bigger than when He left. Ilya tried to remember, to keep track, there maybe was... Fifteen new faces, now ? Twenty ? And what about the ones who "turned", did they count as dead ? And those who just dissapeared ? Did anyone really kept some reccords ? Or was the lose of Teddy, Angus and Beetle enough for everyone to forget about getting attached ?

In the former-FEMA's eyes danced some lights of anger. Complaints. Fears. Needs. A whole monologue they prepared carefully, words they couldn't adress at anyone else, words that made their chest ache and their shoulder tense even more. For months they held them preciously in their throat for the right moment to implode.

[How could you abandon us all ? How could you abandon ME ? I found this place and now I'm taking care of kids, teenagers, young adults, visitors, all mentally ill, all desperate, while you, Pax and Alex live free in the wild. You all left me. Weren't we supposed to be a safety nest for all of them ? Weren't we supposed to be the pillars holding up the roof above their heads ? You all crumbled around me and left me in charge in your place. It wasnt my role. I was not made for this. I was the worst choice possible to take those responsabilities, remember ? I had to step up for YOU. Maybe you never liked me but look, now, how I managed YOUR guests ! Your community ! Your people ! I took care of them, I fed them, I healed them, I protected them, mostly by myself. And now you come back, and everyone will gather around you once again and praise you, because you are so loved and admired even when you give up on people.]

And yet Ilya loved and admired him, too.

And yet they kept those words preciously for themselves, stuck in their chest, the fire keeping them warm.

And just like an abandonned dog still wags it's tail when it's owner finally comes back for them, Ilya welcomed Mikhail Home. With a smile. With a place by their side.

Ilya always wished to be just this. A shepherd's dog, helping with the flock. Nothing more. But the sheperd left one day without a word. And now that he came back, wild and wolf-like, then, what was supposed to happen ? Was Ilya right to lower the gun ?*

- ... Most still remembers you.

*The old faces. Arseni. Lasha. Artie. Pink. Pearl. Nadya. Timofey. Spiral. Koda. Irene. Abbot. The Rook. The Chainsmocker. Ferris. Bee. Mickael. All the others. Orders of arrival in the community were a blur for Ilya's tired brain.

But they remembered their line perfectly.*

- ... Do you wish to come in ?

[a-hermit-ish]

Turning to stare at them when he sits down and puts his weapon aside, Mikhail finally takes a moment to actually look at them. He takes in how exhausted Ilya looks like, how it looks like they've been carrying the weight of the whole world on their back with not much than a "thanks" in exchange.

It's not like Mikhail is much better, he looks more used to being a creature now, yes, but he still looks kinda beaten up, considering new scars and healing wounds here and there on his arms, now visible in the lights of the school.

He nods along when they mention that few people were lost, he wasn't sure what he expected, but he's glad that apparently almost everyone is alright.

"That's great. You did a good job keeping them safe, Ilya."

Mikhail knows his words are probably not much, he knows that he shouldn't have just left like that, that he should have said something more, but in the state of mind he was when it happened, how could he? The hermit could just pray for them to stay safe while he was away.

"I'm... Sorry. For leaving like that. I probably should have explained what was happening with me, but if stayed any longer I would have probably killed someone. Or myself."

He looks up at the night sky, the breeze of the night was nice against his skin. Heavens, how is he going to explain himself to everyone? He was a raging mess of hormones and emotions when he left, the time he spent alone helped him regulate himself again, but he still left them and they would be all alone if it weren't for Ilya taking care of the things.

Mikhail is truly grateful to them. More than he could put into words.

"I'm proud of you. For taking care of everything even if it's too much. I've watched from afar a few times, you didn't let them down even after everything."

Words are not his strong suit, but he tries anyway, he tries to put the maximum amount of emotion he can on his usually dry voice. He's even tempted to pull them into a hug, even if he doesn't like physical contact much, but he's not sure how they would react. He still leaves his body language open for approaching anyway.

"Oh, so polite of you to invite me in."

He chuckles, his sharp teeth not looking so threatening when he's smiling like that. This is probably the most times Ilya ever saw him smiling, time alone really did miraculous things to him, huh?

"Yeah, I would like to get inside. But you should get in first to have some rest. I can stay on watch until dawn, it's only a few hours away anyway."

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*Even when simply sitting at their side, Mikhail towered over Ilya, casting a shadow over them.

He reeked of blood and wilderness. The true form of the Hermit : a thing of the woods. A lone wolf coming back to his sheep. But his voice, his words, his heart, so tamed and domesticated, pacified the guard dog, who left their weapon a bit beyond armreach. A quiet sign of trust.

He needed a shower. Maybe a medical checkup. Maybe a meal. But certainly not judgement. Not yet. And not like that.

As opposed as possible from him, Ilya smelled clean, civilised. Something like a fancy new shampoo, and the chemical smell of detergents and desinfectant. This meant there was now an infirmary in this place. A well running one, surely, with this many people around. The faint smell of different bloods and chemicals stained Ilya's hazmat. Where they the nurse and surgeon of the place, on top of everything else ? It seemed, as they couldnt help but check up the old homeowner for the source of such bleeding. They noticed all the new scars, took note of the fresher ones on his arms, for later care. If he wished to receive it, of course.

The silence streched a little over the both of them, like a comfortable blanket. The gentle wind made the dry tree branchs creak and sing.

Ilya finally spoke, voice cracking a little.*

- ... ... ... I think I needed to hear that.

*They took a sip out of a thermos by their side. What could be coffee, in fact, smelled sweet like chocolate and spices. They weren't thristy, but needed an excuse, some time to think about their next words.

Congratulations. Praise. Being seen. Being held as some kind of heroic figure, for a change. It felt so good, so rewarding, so relieving to finally have someone understand the position they were in. And, as opposed as they were about almost anything, Ilya and Mikhail, alone, shared this weight, those responsabilities.

And him alone could fully understand the way their heart ached for the few who didnt make it. So many were alive, so many were happy, but it was never enough. Was it unforgivable to not have a perfect 100% survival rate ? Was it a sin to be proud of your succes, when some died under your care ?*

- I wished I had done even better, but... Thank you, Mikhail. I really needed that. I... I finally get it, you know. Why you left.

*Straight to the point. With a delicate side eye, understanding, sad, and relieved all at once, they continued.*

- To be honnest, I always imagined you killed yourself.

*There. They admited it. Why they were so scared to see him. To recognize his voice. To admit it was truly him and not some deformed, cruel copy.*

- I firmly believed you put us all in this new place to survive without you and that, free from that burden, you went back to your lonely house atop of the hill and... Bang.

*The former-FEMA mimicked the gesture of shooting their own head, two finger pressed undernearh their chin, where the skin was tender, where their new scar was more visible.

The silence stretched once more. They weren't done talking. They had so much to say. They never even believed they would have the opportunity to speak those words, ever.*

- ... I considered it, often. Leaving.

*A shameful confession. Something they never told anyone else. Not even the ones closest to their heart.*

- But I couldnt. I... met some people I just cannot leave behind. I have a kid who misses me when I'm not here. And... A partner.

*They said with a shy smile, cheeks a dusty rosy shade on their tan skin. It took the Apocalypse for Ilya to, finally, build this family they wished so dearly for. And the eyes Mikhail only knew full of fear, anger and pride, were now inhabited by love that stored itself in every crevices it could find in them.

And when Mikhail smilled with all his teeth, Ilya mimicked him, again. They couldnt help but mock, the ironic tone they always used to have with him. Constant bickering. They missed that.*

- Really ? ... Coming back just to stay here alone at the porch ? You missed the night shift this much ? Well, arlight then, I won't complain !

*They said, but didnt get up. Not even pretending to leave. Not right now. Not like that.*

[a-hermit-ish]

Mikhail tried not to pay much attention to how he probably looked and smelt like he went through hell, because he kind of did went through it, really, but he's not sure when he'll be ready to talk about that.

Now that it came to his mind, he should probably start thinking ways of building up traps around the school, of how to enhance security without tiring anyone out even more. Yet, be should fall back on the "homeowner" mindset, to make sure everyone knew that are things out there worse than what they've seen until now. Other kinds of super visitors that are gruesome and unmerciful, without any trace that could resemble humanity.

At the sound of their voice, his tail comes to rest closer, just behind Ilya, almost wrapping around them, a small way to acknowledge their pain too. A small "It's okay. I see you.", on his own 'hermit' way.

"... I can't say I haven't considered it."

He says quietly, he had a rough time shortly after leaving, but something always made him back off. Made him pull the gun's safety lock back on instead of shooting.

Humming while listening to the former-FEMA, Mikhail smiles softly when they mention having people that made them want to stay.

"You're really a strong person, Ilya. I'm happy that you were able to find your place in this mess. I fear I haven't found mine yet."

Mikhail considers himself a weak man. He wasn't good strong enough to have fighter his father off earlier, wasn't enough to keep a fake marriage with Vera, wasn't enough to keep his own people safe.

The hermit knows that most usually see him as someone steady, someone that they could lean on and rest for a while, and yes, Mikhail would never deny a shoulder to someone who needs it, but he doesn't think that this gives him a role in the community he accidentally pulled together with a few bullets and bandages. He hopes that he can be like them someday, that he can find someone that makes him truly want to stay.

He snorts at their answer to his offer to stay on watch for the rest of the night, shoving their shoulders lightly, because maybe he did miss it.

"I am being serious, though. You look like you could use a few night for yourself, I've certainly had enough for me."

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

Luminous eyes stare at you from the darkness.

*The night was quiet.

Ilya saw It before they could even have a chance to hear It approach.

Whatever It was, It was a predator.

Front facing eyes, refracting the yellow light coming from the school's porch. Silent steps, despite a tall figure. Or so the former agent figured, judging by how high those glowing eyes were. The rest of the figure was hidden in the shadows.

Not a bird, not a cat, not a lost soul around. It was something else, staring at them from the other side of the empty street. Nothing but a light up school, full of life, and a man in hazmat, sat tiredly on the first step leading to the main dorm.

But not a harmless man.

The former-FEMA put the sniper's night visor against their eye. Through the green screen, they could see better. And get a better idea of what It was.

The visor light from the sniper fell on It.

They were now staring at each other.*

[a-hermit-ish]

"It took you long enough to notice me."

Mikhail's voice sounded familiar, yet unsettling. Just like when it's been a long time since you last saw someone and just started forgetting what they sound like. The silence between them is thicker now. Thicker than the hermit's old and torn blue sweater and dark pants, it looks like everything is stained with blood in some places. Was it really a surprise to see that his new weapons were arrows and a bow, with a few hunting knifes on his belt?

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*It took Ilya to hear It speak to, finally, recognize him.

The shock made them take a step back. They still held him at gunpoint, the little green dot was cleanly set in between his glowing eyes, ready.

They saw through the night visor with clarity. It was him. Without a doubt. His face. His ears. His tail. His high stature. His old sweater. The blood was new, tho, but unsurprising. His weapons were a novelty, tho : wasnt his whole body a killing machine, now ?

They held their ground, unsure on the correct thing to do.

They werent really old friends. But not ennemies, either. And Ilya, often, missed him, like you miss a brother you never liked but who was part of the picture for so long his absence felt wrong. Like you miss a thorn at your side. Like you miss a broken arm.

At his little mockery, the former-FEMA grimaced sourly. He was right. They were tired and unfocused, they could have been killed so stupidly. Poor protector for this school. Maybe the only choice, or one of them.

The silence was thick. The both of them were waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Nothing happened.*

- ... I take it you're not here to kill me, then, old man.

*Ilya was no match : exhausted, they were but the shell of the "man" Mikhail once knew. Their arm was healed, now, and they were alive, but the "wins" stopped there. Eyes deep in orbits, a few pounds lost, and an exhaustion on their face showing they held their responsabilities with great care, and little help.*

- ... ... ... So you're alive.

*At that, the former-FEMA... Smilled ?

Yes, this was a little smile on their ugly face. Not a big, welcoming hug, but a bastardy little smug. Warm enough, with eyes sparkling just enough, to take place of any kind of grand gesture they both would hate anyway.

It meant "welcome back."*

[a-hermit-ish]

Ilya calling him an old man catched him slightly out of guard, making him chuckle, his tail swaying lazily behind him and the slight tension on his shoulders melting away.

He looks around for a moment, taking in the sight of the school; he never dared to come this close to it, even less approaching someone like he's doing right now.

His eyes come back to the person in front of him, the small smile still on his lips.

"So are you, and I hope most of everyone inside?"

It was an almost delicate way of asking if anyone died while he was out. The thought of anyone passing left a bitter taste in his mouth, but there's he can do about it now, Mikhail has his own demons and he needed time away from everyone to figure out what to do with them.

"One thing I know at least is that Pax left too. But I know she's sabe wherever she is... But this isn't really about her, how is everyone doing?

He finally steps closer, keeping his posture as relaxed as it can be when they're outside, approaching Ilya until he's sitting down right beside them.

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*With a solemn nod, Ilya answered, finally lowering the gun, until it layed peacefully at their side. They sat back on the step with a groan. Their broad shoulders never relaxed. The frown was permanent on their face. They gained a new, huge scar on their throat, a band going around as if getting them ready for beheading. It made their voice hoarse and manlier. Their hair grew longer and they aged five years in one.

Mikhail changed, too. They lived one hundred lives. How much was left of the versions of themselves who last spoke ? What was it even about ? Ilya couldn't remember.

But still they smilled proudly, puffing up slightly, as if giving a good report to a superior.*

- We got more new faces than missing cases. Some left, very few died. We managed.

*It was pretty clear, from the former-FEMA's level of exhaustion, and the lights and sounds coming from inside the school, that this was a big community. Even bigger than when He left. Ilya tried to remember, to keep track, there maybe was... Fifteen new faces, now ? Twenty ? And what about the ones who "turned", did they count as dead ? And those who just dissapeared ? Did anyone really kept some reccords ? Or was the lose of Teddy, Angus and Beetle enough for everyone to forget about getting attached ?

In the former-FEMA's eyes danced some lights of anger. Complaints. Fears. Needs. A whole monologue they prepared carefully, words they couldn't adress at anyone else, words that made their chest ache and their shoulder tense even more. For months they held them preciously in their throat for the right moment to implode.

[How could you abandon us all ? How could you abandon ME ? I found this place and now I'm taking care of kids, teenagers, young adults, visitors, all mentally ill, all desperate, while you, Pax and Alex live free in the wild. You all left me. Weren't we supposed to be a safety nest for all of them ? Weren't we supposed to be the pillars holding up the roof above their heads ? You all crumbled around me and left me in charge in your place. It wasnt my role. I was not made for this. I was the worst choice possible to take those responsabilities, remember ? I had to step up for YOU. Maybe you never liked me but look, now, how I managed YOUR guests ! Your community ! Your people ! I took care of them, I fed them, I healed them, I protected them, mostly by myself. And now you come back, and everyone will gather around you once again and praise you, because you are so loved and admired even when you give up on people.]

And yet Ilya loved and admired him, too.

And yet they kept those words preciously for themselves, stuck in their chest, the fire keeping them warm.

And just like an abandonned dog still wags it's tail when it's owner finally comes back for them, Ilya welcomed Mikhail Home. With a smile. With a place by their side.

Ilya always wished to be just this. A shepherd's dog, helping with the flock. Nothing more. But the sheperd left one day without a word. And now that he came back, wild and wolf-like, then, what was supposed to happen ? Was Ilya right to lower the gun ?*

- ... Most still remembers you.

*The old faces. Arseni. Lasha. Artie. Pink. Pearl. Nadya. Timofey. Spiral. Koda. Irene. Abbot. The Rook. The Chainsmocker. Ferris. Bee. Mickael. All the others. Orders of arrival in the community were a blur for Ilya's tired brain.

But they remembered their line perfectly.*

- ... Do you wish to come in ?

[a-hermit-ish]

Turning to stare at them when he sits down and puts his weapon aside, Mikhail finally takes a moment to actually look at them. He takes in how exhausted Ilya looks like, how it looks like they've been carrying the weight of the whole world on their back with not much than a "thanks" in exchange.

It's not like Mikhail is much better, he looks more used to being a creature now, yes, but he still looks kinda beaten up, considering new scars and healing wounds here and there on his arms, now visible in the lights of the school.

He nods along when they mention that few people were lost, he wasn't sure what he expected, but he's glad that apparently almost everyone is alright.

"That's great. You did a good job keeping them safe, Ilya."

Mikhail knows his words are probably not much, he knows that he shouldn't have just left like that, that he should have said something more, but in the state of mind he was when it happened, how could he? The hermit could just pray for them to stay safe while he was away.

"I'm... Sorry. For leaving like that. I probably should have explained what was happening with me, but if stayed any longer I would have probably killed someone. Or myself."

He looks up at the night sky, the breeze of the night was nice against his skin. Heavens, how is he going to explain himself to everyone? He was a raging mess of hormones and emotions when he left, the time he spent alone helped him regulate himself again, but he still left them and they would be all alone if it weren't for Ilya taking care of the things.

Mikhail is truly grateful to them. More than he could put into words.

"I'm proud of you. For taking care of everything even if it's too much. I've watched from afar a few times, you didn't let them down even after everything."

Words are not his strong suit, but he tries anyway, he tries to put the maximum amount of emotion he can on his usually dry voice. He's even tempted to pull them into a hug, even if he doesn't like physical contact much, but he's not sure how they would react. He still leaves his body language open for approaching anyway.

"Oh, so polite of you to invite me in."

He chuckles, his sharp teeth not looking so threatening when he's smiling like that. This is probably the most times Ilya ever saw him smiling, time alone really did miraculous things to him, huh?

"Yeah, I would like to get inside. But you should get in first to have some rest. I can stay on watch until dawn, it's only a few hours away anyway."

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

Luminous eyes stare at you from the darkness.

*The night was quiet.

Ilya saw It before they could even have a chance to hear It approach.

Whatever It was, It was a predator.

Front facing eyes, refracting the yellow light coming from the school's porch. Silent steps, despite a tall figure. Or so the former agent figured, judging by how high those glowing eyes were. The rest of the figure was hidden in the shadows.

Not a bird, not a cat, not a lost soul around. It was something else, staring at them from the other side of the empty street. Nothing but a light up school, full of life, and a man in hazmat, sat tiredly on the first step leading to the main dorm.

But not a harmless man.

The former-FEMA put the sniper's night visor against their eye. Through the green screen, they could see better. And get a better idea of what It was.

The visor light from the sniper fell on It.

They were now staring at each other.*

[a-hermit-ish]

"It took you long enough to notice me."

Mikhail's voice sounded familiar, yet unsettling. Just like when it's been a long time since you last saw someone and just started forgetting what they sound like. The silence between them is thicker now. Thicker than the hermit's old and torn blue sweater and dark pants, it looks like everything is stained with blood in some places. Was it really a surprise to see that his new weapons were arrows and a bow, with a few hunting knifes on his belt?

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

*It took Ilya to hear It speak to, finally, recognize him.

The shock made them take a step back. They still held him at gunpoint, the little green dot was cleanly set in between his glowing eyes, ready.

They saw through the night visor with clarity. It was him. Without a doubt. His face. His ears. His tail. His high stature. His old sweater. The blood was new, tho, but unsurprising. His weapons were a novelty, tho : wasnt his whole body a killing machine, now ?

They held their ground, unsure on the correct thing to do.

They werent really old friends. But not ennemies, either. And Ilya, often, missed him, like you miss a brother you never liked but who was part of the picture for so long his absence felt wrong. Like you miss a thorn at your side. Like you miss a broken arm.

At his little mockery, the former-FEMA grimaced sourly. He was right. They were tired and unfocused, they could have been killed so stupidly. Poor protector for this school. Maybe the only choice, or one of them.

The silence was thick. The both of them were waiting for something, anything, to happen.

Nothing happened.*

- ... I take it you're not here to kill me, then, old man.

*Ilya was no match : exhausted, they were but the shell of the "man" Mikhail once knew. Their arm was healed, now, and they were alive, but the "wins" stopped there. Eyes deep in orbits, a few pounds lost, and an exhaustion on their face showing they held their responsabilities with great care, and little help.*

- ... ... ... So you're alive.

*At that, the former-FEMA... Smilled ?

Yes, this was a little smile on their ugly face. Not a big, welcoming hug, but a bastardy little smug. Warm enough, with eyes sparkling just enough, to take place of any kind of grand gesture they both would hate anyway.

It meant "welcome back."*

[a-hermit-ish]

Ilya calling him an old man catched him slightly out of guard, making him chuckle, his tail swaying lazily behind him and the slight tension on his shoulders melting away.

He looks around for a moment, taking in the sight of the school; he never dared to come this close to it, even less approaching someone like he's doing right now.

His eyes come back to the person in front of him, the small smile still on his lips.

"So are you, and I hope most of everyone inside?"

It was an almost delicate way of asking if anyone died while he was out. The thought of anyone passing left a bitter taste in his mouth, but there's he can do about it now, Mikhail has his own demons and he needed time away from everyone to figure out what to do with them.

"One thing I know at least is that Pax left too. But I know she's sabe wherever she is... But this isn't really about her, how is everyone doing?

He finally steps closer, keeping his posture as relaxed as it can be when they're outside, approaching Ilya until he's sitting down right beside them.

[not-a-ex-fema-i-swear]

Luminous eyes stare at you from the darkness.

*The night was quiet.

Ilya saw It before they could even have a chance to hear It approach.

Whatever It was, It was a predator.

Front facing eyes, refracting the yellow light coming from the school's porch. Silent steps, despite a tall figure. Or so the former agent figured, judging by how high those glowing eyes were. The rest of the figure was hidden in the shadows.

Not a bird, not a cat, not a lost soul around. It was something else, staring at them from the other side of the empty street. Nothing but a light up school, full of life, and a man in hazmat, sat tiredly on the first step leading to the main dorm.

But not a harmless man.

The former-FEMA put the sniper's night visor against their eye. Through the green screen, they could see better. And get a better idea of what It was.

The visor light from the sniper fell on It.

They were now staring at each other.*

[a-hermit-ish]

"It took you long enough to notice me."

Mikhail's voice sounded familiar, yet unsettling. Just like when it's been a long time since you last saw someone and just started forgetting what they sound like. The silence between them is thicker now. Thicker than the hermit's old and torn blue sweater and dark pants, it looks like everything is stained with blood in some places. Was it really a surprise to see that his new weapons were arrows and a bow, with a few hunting knifes on his belt?

[a-hermit-ish]

I made the new blog!!

Go follow @thehermit-a :3

[i-cant-go-please]

now we have the bunny and his wife that's 4 sizes bigger than him back, absolute combo

“I don't recall be..being married... Agh.. It's horrible not being able to re- remember a lot..”

[He holds his head in his hands, trying to get himself to remember.]

[a-hermit-ish]

I STILL HAVE THE DRAWING SAVED ON MY PHONE

[a-hermit-ish]

Question

If I made another hermit blog, from like, before chaos events, would you guys interact with it and still interact with this blog? BECAUSE YOU BETTER INTERACT WITH BOTH IF I MAKE THE OTHER BLOG OR ELSE I'LL DISAPPEAR AGAIN

Slash I kinda miss having a normalzie Misha BUT i have things planned from this one (and i think you guys like this one???? I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS ONE??????? 💔)

Update from uhhh idk: I plan to make the new homeowner blog the main one kinda and this one will be like. That one distant uncle that visits sometimes with weird gifts and even weirded stories. Not planning to abandon him! Just trying to figure out wtf I'm supposed to do

[daily-online-kitty]

[a-hermit-ish]

HOLY SHIT YOURE BACK!!!!!!! you single handedly fed my NINAH hyperfixtion like october last year i was so sad when you innactive!! Welcome back!!!!

I AM VERY MUCH BACK!! And I'm glad to know that at least someone else's hyperfixation on ninah was fed with this silly blog 🥹

[a-hermit-ish]

I would never think I would grow tired of being alone. I guess being months stuck with a lot of people do that to you.

[a-hermit-ish]

i find it so funny that ur comeback somehow triggered the comeback of other people

It did? '⁠▽'

[a-hermit-ish]

OMG HE'S BACK, CHAT, CHATTT, HE'S BACK, OH MY GOD.

"Did you people really miss me that much?"

[tie-girl-lucie]

The creature tilts its head to the side, its body language, or at least what is visible of it, is almost curious.

It moves to a weird position, it isn't close enough to the school that the lights it emits reach the creature, so Lucie can just guess what it's doing, that is until a whistle cuts the air and an arrow hits the window frame, way too close to Lucie's head.

The creature doesn't stay long after that, the glowing eyes that were watching the school so attentively disappearing and leaving only the darkness of the night again.

There's a piece of paper wrapped around the arrow, and when Lucie unwraps it, a messy and familiar handwriting greets her: "The river behind the Hermit's hill. Tomorrow at dusk, find me."

- ❓

- EEK !!

*Poor Lucie ducked in fear of the arrow, throwing herself on the bedroom's floor. Where the hell were the ones securing the place ? Ilya ? Grey ???*

- D-Dont shoot ! You mad lad !

*Weak words and weaker insults. Lucie stayed hidden, trembling...

It took some time for Lucie to find the courage to peak out some more, and, finally, to see no one was there anymore. The beast dissapeared. It's glowing eyes, scary and familiar all at once, where nowhere in sight. If her hearing was great, her sight became poorer by the day, and Lucie couldnt see a single thing in the forest.

But on the window, tho...

The wodden frame was an easy target. The arrow was cleanly stuck in it. And the letter...

Horrendous hands reached for the paper : black rotten, skinless, empty nailbeds, puss and dried blood. Sure to stain the white letter. But the words were still readable, clear as day, clearer than any tarot reading she ever could do.

She recognized his handwritting. Changed by a transformed hand, a little, but there was no mistake possible. Mikhail wrote this for her. No, no, no need to be shy : Misha. Misha wrote it.

There was no need for magic to know who was back. But Lucie was sure if she tried a reading, the arcane of the Hermit would fall right out of her deck.

A bright smile lighted her rotting face up.*

- ... A secret rendez-vous ? Oh la la...