Shake Children, Shake

You see, without the Truth of the Eyes, the Happyfolk were blind Golden Eyes and Silver Lies All end in scarves of satin red Jump out from behind them and shoot them in the head Now everybody dancing the dance of the dead

[leo-seong]

“Just a couple, huh?” She’s strange, but most of Mistmoore is. 

“My excuse for being at the graveyard? Paying the bills, I guess.”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

“I’m not so bold to think I’m gonna live to be one hundred,” she responded slowly, smirking into the irony of the statement, “but I’m not ready to go quite yet so I’m giving myself a little bit more time.”

She’d spent too much time around dead people, they were never a great crowd where she was from. “That’s nobel,” she replied, her fingers grasping around the whiskey set in front of her, “not a common answer.”

[leo-seong]

“No, no, it was great. Very creative.” Nonetheless, he still moves the penny back in front of her.

“Haven’t seen you at the graveyard again. No more window shopping, or did I just miss you?”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

She closes a manicured hand over the penny, nailed scraping the bar as she picked it up, her eyes peering down to the date as if it had outlived her.

“Had a life to live,” she responded slowly, “figured I have a couple more years until I figure out dying.” Pursed lips continued slowly, “What’s your excuse?”

[leo-seong]

He sees her walk in, Silas he remembers her name being. He hasn’t seen her in a while, but their talk back at the graveyard was strange enough to stick out.

When she plants herself next to him, flicking a penny his way, he figures he shouldn’t be surprised. He uses his palm to stop the spinning. “Did you come in here with that line all planned out?”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

“What?” she pouted, her eyes drawn into a malicious smirk, “you don’t like it?” She exhaled slowly, “I thought it was fairly creative.” Silas turned her head the the bartender, her expression wiped clean in a matter of moments as she nodded to her known order. 

[silas-jacinth-blog]

She strode into the bar slowly, the scent of stale beer and last nights mistakes drifting towards the door. Silas didn’t take the time to pause, a coin sliding between her fingers before she dropped into a spare seat next to a shadowed figure, slamming the coin on the bar and flicking it towards her company, “Penny for your thoughts?” she whispered.

[jaime-cohen]

“So it’s all a poker game to you, then?” There’s no accusation there, only curiosity.

[silas-jacinth-blog]

Silas raised her eyes, “Life, evolution, all a game of who has the best hand,” she replied carefully, her fingers tracing circles on the chipping counter top. 

[jaime-cohen]

“Yeah, alright,” he agrees with a rasp against the edge of his voice.

“Always seems like you’re holdin’ onto more cards than you’re lettin’ on.”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

Silas nodded slowly, raising two fingers to the bartender before turning her attention back to the man to her left.

“It’s a fools game to reveal his hand,” she responded calmly, hands coming to a rest on the counter top in front of her, “No poker games ever been won with honesty.”

[jaime-cohen]

He nods a couple of times, downing the last of his whiskey.

“What do you waste your time on?”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

Silas pushed her glass away slowly, the ice cubes melting into the last few drops of whiskey. “Another?” she purred, glancing at the man beside her.

“Bit of everything these days,” she responded slowly, sparing the gory details, “try not to dwell on anything.”

[jaime-cohen]

“Think you’re right about that. Don’t think I’ve had a bit of it since I’ve got here.”

“You don’t seem the type to do that.”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

Silas took another sip from her glass, “suppose that’s why we all end up here.”

At her age? “Figured it’s better to not waste my time on thoughts.”

[jaime-cohen]

“Well, you ain’t alone.” Maybe it’s better he isn’t either, before he gets any ideas to start tearing through the city. 

He eyes her for a moment, the pads of his fingers tapping his glass. “Not like we got a choice.” It’s not true, but he says it anyway.

[silas-jacinth-blog]

“For the better,” she sang slowly, “Town’s too small to have any direction.”

For a moment she considered debating the issue, though dropping it nearly as fast, life merely seeing like a state of mind. “Start chasing fairy tales and you do.”

[jaime-cohen]

“That mean you got any interestin’ plans for tonight, then?” 

Any topic that doesn’t involve him is good enough. “Yeah, men’ll do that.” Winter, summer, it doesn’t matter. “Past that, bet you get more business from funerals than for weddings here.”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

“Seeing where the evening takes me,” she responded quickly, “seems to be the only way to plan your life around here.”

Silas nodded slowly, “The living love the dead,” she responded, taking another long sip from her glass, “Love them so much that they become them.”

[jaime-cohen]

“I bet. Gotta make it all that the more interestin’.” His eyes shoot to the door again, just for a second. A part of him knows he won’t see her tonight.

“Ah, yeah. Gotta be good for you, the weather warmin’ up a bit. You gettin’ a lotta hopeless men who need a couple dozen bouquets?”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

She shrugged slowly, “best you can do in a small town I suppose, try to make things interesting.” She shook her head, following his gaze for a moment before dropping it, this wasn’t the day to question the mans’ intentions.

“Lots of men who’ve made mistakes in the lonely winter months,” she said calmly, “see it every year. Business is really only as good as people want to appear in love.” 

[jaime-cohen]

“You don’t strike me as the type.” Silas has never had a problem in holding his attention, so maybe that will do him a favor.

Or maybe Nora will walk in and jump to a whole bunch of different conclusions. That thought encourages him to take another long sip of whiskey.

“Might take you up on it in a few.” It would help his nerves, but he doesn’t want to be drunk, or anything near it, the next time he sees Nora. “Nothin’ I wanna drag you in on. How you been?”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

“I’m a creature of comfort,” she replied slowly, receiving her glass with a careful hand, “learned to fall out of the rhythm of this town early on, makes my life easier.”

Despite her intrigue, she followed a line to not engage, better to not waste time on someone she has no intention of saving. She exhaled slowly, carefully, taking a slow sip from her glass, “Stagnant,” she responded, looking around for a moment, “flowers are blooming though, so business is good.”

[jaime-cohen]

“Ain’t ever gotta be a worry for you, I bet.” At the very least, she’s a distraction. But he still can’t help his eyes flickering toward the door every few seconds.

At her offer, his attention blinks down toward his drink, still over half full. “Nah, thanks. Still workin’ on mind.”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

“You’d be surprised,” she mused, glancing around the bar for someone as solemn as her company, “People in this town tend to fall into a routine.” She shrugged, softly, glancing up at the bartender before tapping her glass lightly.

“Offer stands,” she replied, plucking a cashew from the communal bowl of nuts sitting on the bar, “What’s got you down?”

[jaime-cohen]

His hands, bruised and cracked as always, run over his face to try and quell every emotion he’s drowning in. He can’t find it in him to try and numb it with the drink in front of him, and when a different familiar face joins him at the table, he’s not so sure that much is going to help either.

His smile is small and forced.

“Haven’t heard that one before.”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

Silas exhaled slowly, leaning back on her stool as she wrapped her hand around the cool glass in front of her, tilting her head to the side as she observed the battered man beside her, the ease she could sink into her heart overcome by an odd precedence. “I aim to be creative,” she responded slowly, shrugging as she threw back the whiskey in her glass, giving up on the ideal of sipping. “Im buying next round, what do you want?”

[jaime-cohen]

Tucked away into a far corner of the bar, Jaime’s fingers are tapping rapidly against the oak, causing the whiskey inside to ripple and sway. He isn’t paying much attention toward his drink, or toward anything but the front doors, and how much he wants to see a familiar face walk through them.

[silas-jacinth-blog]

Her gate was cold, calculated as she wandered into the bar, eyes scanning the crowd for a fix, for a new victim, her target turned into a familiar face. Silas exhaled slowly, pacing to the seat besides Jaime before sliding in next to the man as she signaled the bartender for her usual poison. “What’s got your dick in a twist?” She hissed, rapping her fingers against the table.

[samantha-everly]

“Don’t need a watch.” She wouldn’t put it past Silas to have some kind of tracker in there. “Got all the time in the world.”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

“Ugh,” Silas retorted, rolling her eyes with a general throw of disgust, “Try to warm me next time you quote a goddamn hallmark card about longevity.”

[janelle--avery-blog]

“O-oh! Yes, I did, thank you! It’s heavy and just a tad too loose and keeps slipping off, so thank you. I appreciate it.” She takes the watch and fumbles a little with the butterfly clasp. “Where did you find it, oh wow.”

[silas-jacinth-blog]

Silas nodded slowly, watching the girl’s hands fumble with the heavy medal, “It was sitting a couple paces back on the pavement, you were the only soul in sight so I figured you were the best bet at an owner.”