here be death.

They say if you look me in the eye, your death is surely imminent. I say let's not take chances. Emile // 27 // Sea Breeze Condo #8 [FC: Matthias Lauridsen]

[emile-batista]

Emile was beginning to get sick of burying the dead. No, not really beginning. He was sick of it; very sick of it, if only because he had watched many a person die and then dug their grave. He wasn’t old at this point in his life, but he wasn’t exactly young either. Just tired and beginning to feel the wear and tear of ten years of digging graves.

But that’s what he did and that’s who he was. Part of him was dead inside at this point. It was a cliçhe sounding thing, but Emile had lost count of the amount of bodies he’d found, and that kind of thing had it’s effect on you. So he sighed and went to work daily and avoided getting all too close to people on the chance they died. 

Following his same path, head down, Emile walked towards work. He looked up to step out of the way of someone headed in the opposite direction, offering them a tight-lipped smile and a nod of acknowledgement.

[burntandromeda]

The man’s silence struck her as odd, given the nature of their organization. People tended to either ridicule them or manifest their support, and Asia was unsure of which she dreaded more at that point. “Had you heard of us before?”

[emile-batista]

Emile had been hoping to sneak away with the pamphlet and avoid these rather awkward introductions with people around town, but that didn’t seems to be something that was working in his favour. He shook his head in response to her question, looking up from the pamphlet.

[burntandromeda]

What can the human rights movement do for you?

“Please, take a pamphlet.” Her friendliness was starting to dissipate from exhaustion and sheer boredom, but Anastasia still managed to smile. “We all adore new faces.”

[emile-batista]

Emile glanced up at the woman’s face and politely took a pamphlet, nodding and looking it over. He’d heard of it briefly, but honestly didn’t know what the human rights movement was. Not that he necessarily cared, but he’d read it to find out.

[loyaltyisreturned]

Barton Hollow, after a storm, was even more muddy and sticky than normal. But rain meant mud was cleaned off plants and made it easier to distinguish them, especially in the woods. So, Nicolas grabbed a bag and began hunting. He grimaced to himself as he gingerly picked his way through tall trees and underbrush, looking for the telltale blue-black berries of the elderberry plant, reminding himself how good elderberry jam would taste and helpful the plant would be for burns. 

After an hour or so of searching, he spotted some in an underbrush, and moved quickly, pushing the person standing next to them out of the way. Giving that person a dark look, he turned to the leaves and began picking the berries and some of the flowers. 

“There’s a better place to birdwatch or whatever you’re doing over there,” he said as he worked, eyes on the ground in front of him. “Away from me.”

[emile-batista]

Emile was nursing a coffee that was a little more black than he had ordered. Whoever had made it was very stingy on the syrups. In any case, coffee was coffee, and he needed it. The time change had his sleep schedule completely thrown off at this point and caffeine was much needed to get through the day.

As he walked, Emile pulled out his phone, checking the time and his email. It was just a few ads here and there--a sale on a clothing website, free shipping on another--nothing he hadn’t received before. The same monotony.

He was pulled from his thoughts and focus on his phone by a voice, causing him to look up. He was surprised to find himself in the forest. If he didn’t know better at this point, he’d have thought it was a glitch in the matrix.

He looked up at the source of the voice, noticing a man picking berries. Emile pocketed his phone again, backing up from him almost cautiously. He would just leave the man alone, but he honestly didn’t know how to get back out of the woods, and sighed silently, not really wanting to ask for assistance.

[thelittle-raearchived-blog--blog]

"Ah" she scratched her cheek, nodding "that’s a really long time, the last thing you need right now it’s to have someone tell you that upsetting but it is…" Ariel could relate to it, having something taken away from you and then taking it back. It’s hard to get used to it. It’s hard to realized you have power over yourself again. A little blush appeared in her face, she felt a little sense of glee "Really? Well, that’s a good thing." she couldn’t help but stare incredulously at him when he answered. She hadn’t met a grave digger before. "Do you like your job?" Weird question, she thought, but she didn’t meant it in an ironic way 

[emile-batista]

Emile shrugged a shoulder, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. "Not the absolute last thing I need. Don't sweat it." Each time Emile had found himself able to speak, someone pointed out it was upsetting that he couldn't typically speak. It was part of his everyday mantra at this point. He really didn't need it pointed out, but he didn't mind that it was being pointed out again.

"Do I like digging holes? Yeah, I suppose. It's an easy way to hide all the people I've killed, you know?"

[evangeline-abrams]

Evangeline wasn’t a thoughtless person at all, yet the first thing that she found escaping her mouth after Emile’s long, rather heartfelt story was, “Wow, that’s really fucking sad.” It wasn’t sarcasm - just the brunette being terribly blunt. Stuffing her hands in her pockets and blushing, she added quickly, “Sorry, that was rude. I just - how can you live like that? God, I wanna give you a hug, and I don’t even like hugs.” Eyeing him nervously, Evangeline shifted from one leg to another, finishing sincerely, “That’s really awful. I - I’m so sorry.”

[emile-batista]

Emile pursed his lips. "Yeah, it's--it sucks ass. But you know, I'm used to it. It's still awful and I'm really tired of seeing dead people, but--but what else is there? It's who I am now."

Emile shrugged, rocking back and forth on his feet again. He knew what life was like to live without so much death but at this point, here explaining himself to a complete stranger, it felt almost natural.

[emilie-cross]

     ”N-no, really! Y-y’don’t hafta worry about it…I-I just uh, overreacted. Really, it’s-it’s fine. Not yer fault at all” The reference to his status in Barton only managed to fly over her head, as Emilie was largely unaware of whom the man in front of her was. Keeping up with news in this town had always been a luxury that she could never afford, though often times she was grateful for that. To her, he was just a strange man with a strange raspy voice walking home and minding his own business. 

    And even though he was a strange man, she was almost relieved to have someone else around. Though she enjoyed her walks by herself, she was more than happy to have company when it meant not being alone in the middle of the  night. “A-actually….uh, if y’don’t mind…” she spoke up again, ” c-can we walk together for a little while? I-I…I get a little…er…anxious….walkin’ by myself this late at night…” 

[emile-batista]

"If you're sure you're alright," Emile said, nodding. He cocked his head slightly to the side, appraising her silently. This woman was definitely tense and afraid, but it wasn't specifically tense around Emile or afraid of Emile. It was something more than that, and that's why he didn't hesitate to nod when asked if they could walk together.

"Yes, that's okay. I can tell you're not okay with being out right now. Why are you, if I may ask? You're nervous about it but out anyway?"

[bhinspire]

[evangeline-abrams]

"If you’re not comfortable telling it, then don’t tell me," Evangeline replied simply, her dark eyes resting on his. "It’s fine, really."

[emile-batista]

"No, it's," Emile released a breath, trying to find a decent starting place. He sucked in another breath and spoke again.

"It's--When I was younger, I stopped being able to say a couple words. You know, just a word here and there. Like band. Or cereal. They physically wouldn't come out, try as I might to force myself to say the word. I obviously still know words, but they don't usually come out. So doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with me and called me a big freak. Eventually I lost all my words and became entirely mute, but people--doctors, people at school, my parents--just about everyone, thought I was faking it. I've heard some pretty radical rumors about myself--and not radical as in 'that's rad, dude'. No, radical as in people say if you look me in the eye, you're going to die, too. Anyway, where was I? Oh. Then I started screaming," Emile sighed here, rocking from the balls of his feet and back to his heels and swinging his arms at his sides.

"I would scream for hours at a time and eventually pass out because it was too much. I couldn't talk, but I could apparently scream. I couldn't control it, though. It took a few months for anyone to realize that every time I screamed, someone in town died at the exact same time. Then I started sleepwalking. Even when I was locked up in the house, I would sleepwalk to another place and there I would find a body. Some were people I knew; some weren't. One was my best friend." Emile grimaced and shook his head. He hadn't been able to get that one image out of his head, no matter how long it had been.

"From there, it started happening more frequently and then during the day, too. It's been happening for years now. Still dead bodies and still screams. But now sometimes--and I don't understand why--I get my voice back; which is another reason why people think I'm full of shit. But it's only ever been for a few hours before and after a scream. I'm currently in the before period and you are currently the first person I've spoken to. Which, as you probably noticed, is why I looked so surprised when I first spoke. Because I didn't mean to, it just happened. So, now I am a ticking time bomb for when the next death in town is." Emile pulled a face at that, just staring at the woman before him. A thought crossed his mind suddenly, and the sudden remembering of it showed up in his expression.

"Oh! But you don't have to worry or anything, you're probably totally safe. The looking me in the eye theory is untested, but so far so good."

[evangeline-abrams]

"I don’t mind long stories. What, is it a secret?" she questioned skeptically, her hazel irises meeting his as she bit back a sigh. "Or did you just have strep throat or something terribly ordinary like that?"

[emile-batista]

"Not so much a secret as more of a . . . confusing thing. I'm not entirely sure myself, really." Emile took a deep breath and sighed. "I'm still not so sure you want to hear the story in any case."

[emilie-cross]

     She was grateful for the space he made between them, but seeing the fear in his eyes caused her arm to waver. Having no real intention of spraying the man, or causing him distress, she quickly lowered the can back into her bag. He seemed…odd…but that had never been a good reason to mace someone, especially in Barton. If she went around dousing everyone who gave her a weird vibe, half the town would be rolling on the floor in agony. 

     ”Y-yes, I’m…I’m fine……s-sorry about that. Y-you…you can never be t-too careful…right?” she attempted to laugh it off, but the sound that came out was more an embarrassed whimper than anything. Taking a step back to match his, she turned her head to try and look at the back of her shirt. “I-I don’t think think they came from you” she admitted, noticing several patches of dirt, “don’t worry about it” 

[emile-batista]

Emile relaxed as soon as the mace was put away. "I'm sorry I scared you," he rasped, nodding toward where the mace had just disappeared into her bag. "Didn't mean to." He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the current situation. "I do that sometimes and I never mean to, but it's unavoidable, I suppose.

"And I agree," he continued, dropping his hand back to his side. "One can never be too careful." He offered an equally as awkward chuckle, "If I did get any dirt on you, I'm sorry again. I haven't had the chance to clean up after work and all."

[noirpoursabine-deactivated20150]

The woman stared at the male for a few seconds, as if searching for some sort of failure in his expression, something that would give her an idea of how he truly felt. It didn’t take her too long to notice that there was still a slight bit of shock in his expression. Instead of speaking once more, Sabine simply nodded and took another look at the man, looking him over and noticing the amount of dirt under his nails. That was enough to bring her curiosity back to life. “May I ask why you happen to have dirt underneath your nails?”

"I don’t think people mean to bump into strangers. Don’t worry." She replied, a hint of a joking tone in her voice. However, she didn’t quite enjoy how he copied the expression on her face, stepping away from her. Was he afraid? "I told you there is nothing to worry or be sorry for. There’s no need for you to recoil, it was just a bump." She insisted, although his long reaction was still bothering her.

[emile-batista]

Emile felt more than a little uncomfortable with the way he was being scrutinized, but he didn't say anything against it. At the mention of the dirt beneath his nails, he looked down, spreading out his fingers and examining it himself. "Observant, aren't you?" he said, looking back up at the woman with a genuine smile. "T'would be because I was digging graves just now. I, erm, work in a cemetery."

"Well, nonetheless, intention does not make me feel less bad about it happening," Emile swallowed, offering another smile and beginning to relax. "I know. I'm not sure I mean to recoil either, I suppose. Force of habit."

[evangeline-abrams]

Despite how desperately she wanted to be a paragon of kindness and love, Evangeline couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow disbelievingly. “Oh, why not?” she questioned, her tone more curious than accusatory.

[emile-batista]

"Er, it's a long, uh, story," Emile stammered, not exactly knowing how to explain it in simple terms. It wasn't every day you had to explain that you hadn't talked in months because your voice was potentially being saved to announce the deaths of people around you. He licked his lips and pursed them, nodding more to himself than the woman before him.

[thelittle-raearchived-blog--blog]

"How long has it been since you last spoke? Does it feel weird?" Ariel felt as if she was asking too many questions, but without a notebook in between it felt somewhat different. He had a nice voice, she found herself liking it quite a bit. Hearing people voices was something she often did after all. "You should be smiling, that would be like the cherry in top of the pie." Ariel felt like she was being too pushy, specially when he didn’t smile that much. She, herself, was inexpressive some times. "What do you work in?"

[emile-batista]

"'bout seven months," Emile said after a brief pause for thought. "I can't do it often. Before that it was maybe two years." He licked his lips and nodded with a shrug. "It's something I just got used to not doing, so the feeling is strange." He raised an eyebrow. Why would he be smiling any more than any other day? Talking didn't change the fact he would end up screaming in what was probably just a few hours. Even so, he forced a smile. "Would it now? That's probably one of the nicest things anyone has said to me." He chuckled, more to himself than her, looking down at his shoes briefly. "I, er, dig graves and work with the funeral home. That kinda thing."

[noirpoursabine-deactivated20150]

As much as the woman tried to believe what he was saying, Sabine couldn’t bring herself to trust the words, at least not in such a raspy, gruff voice. It was odd but still, perhaps it would be best for her not to say a word. As he stepped back, she knew there was something going on. “Or are you?” She asked once again, arching an eyebrow at the younger man.

"Yes. Yes I am alright.” She responded in a slightly cold tone, as if it was a response to the emphasis on the word ‘you’. Why wouldn’t she be? She was fine, just fine. But his words and the look on his face were somehow making her wonder if she was really alright. Not something she was expecting to think of, not at the moment. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

[emile-batista]

Emile licked his lips, rocking onto the balls of his feet and back. "Yeah, I'm fine," he repeated, attempting to clear his throat. "Really. Just--yeah, fine." He scratched at his jaw, trying to look as okay as he said he was, but there was still a bit of fading shock left in his expression.

"I just wanted to clarify. I didn't mean to bump into you or anything. I just--yeah, I just wanted to know." There was something that instantly shut off between them, and Emile found himself almost recoiling into himself as she seemed to. Whether it was something about her tone or the expression on her face, Emile took an almost defensive step back, mirroring her expression to a point.

[emilie-cross]

     Even if walking around Barton at night still gave Emilie and reason to fear for her safety, she’d at least come to appreciate the mysterious serenity of the town. There weren’t any cars around, save for the odd teenagers out joy-riding, and the usual hustle and bustle of the crowd had disappeared with the dying of the light. She would’ve been foolish to think that she was alone- especially when one considered the fact that they never quite knew what was around the corner, lurking in the alleyways- but there was enough room to breathe, which was something she had to be thankful for. She’d almost come to enjoy the nights where she had to go to the forest to fetch ingredients, and she cherished the time that she could spend outside of her apartment. 

     She pulled her jacket around her tighter as she stood at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. Even if there weren’t any cars she couldn’t bring herself to break such a trivial law. As careful as she was, though, to listen out for anyone approaching, she was surprised to say the least when someone walked straight into her. Her hand shot down to the can of mace she had stashed in her bag and she spun around to hold it up as a warning. Expecting an attack, she was surprised again when she heard a soft apology come from the man. 

"O-oh. U-uh…mm…it’s…it’s alright…"

[emile-batista]

"You, er--you alright?" Emile asked, stepping back with caution at the sight of the mace. He knew he had a certain reputation, but mace? That was a little much in any circumstance. He swallowed audibly, pulling his eyes away from the mace and looking up at the girl's face. He supposed that nowadays, even in Barton Hollow, a woman could never be careful enough.

"I didn't get any dirt on you, did I?" He cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the audible sound of his voice's under-use. "If I did, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going. Didn't mean to bump into you."

[thelittle-raearchived-blog--blog]

Ariel’s doe-eyes widened in surprise “You’re talking” she said a big smile slowly growing in her face, if Emile had been someone she was used to be around she’d probably hug him, but she decided it wasn’t appropriate and so she would limit herself to dedicate him a smile, yes, that would do it. He was also covered in dirt, for some reason, she thought maybe he wouldn’t mind helping with Nikolai’s causes, who often needed volunteers. “Don’t worry about it, seriously.” she finally said, silently wondering if it was okay to start some small talk as she hadn’t talked to him since the coffee encounter. “How are you?”

[emile-batista]

Emile nodded, attempting a smile. "Guess I am," he said softly, nodding and laughing a little, shaking his head. He scratched the back of his head, licking his lips and looking up at Ariel. He hadn't really spoken to her since the coffee shop, but he enjoyed her presence to say the least. He was almost eager to talk to her. In those rare instances when he could talk, he wanted nothing more than to say everything he couldn't before, and he supposed it didn't really matter who he was talking to. "I'm good," he responded, a little hint of a smile teasing at his lips. "Just got off work."