#roseredknuckles

[architekt-in-the-fog]

(🥂🐾) ꫂ ၴႅၴ ˎˊ˗

{Continued from here with @roseredknuckles

Richter's attention shifted to the note King held out to show him. Even with his eyes transformed, the distance and dim light made it impossible to read the exact words. Was King just hoping to hide out in a renovation space then? Or had the other man sought him out intentionally?

"She's still the shift manager," he finally replied. Another factual tone with minimal emotion. "It's easier to fall down the stairs than it is to claw your way back up."

His own eyes averted, a twitch of frustration in his eye and jaw. The cat way of phrasing certain things felt wrong in his mouth. In the same way that English felt unnatural to him most of the time.

The problem was that he couldn't remember enough about his real life to know what language he was supposed to speak.

Richter's features softened in the same second that he grappled with that uncomfortable thought. There was no need to worry King with his half formed thoughts and frustrations. There was no need for King to be in this part of the shop, to see the unfinished room behind him that had captivated his thoughts and unsettled his whole day.

Who was that room for?

It felt cruel to turn on the charm with King, to shift his face so the light flickered in his eyes, making them shine. To smile, to blink slowly in a feline way of building trust and connection. But he wanted King to follow him, to go away from this place at least.

"We can go back together. I'd hate to see you end up in the boiler room for this. All you have to do is be seen doing your job and write down the fake number later."

[paintxd-notxs]

🌊🖤 - Shimmering Colours in the Hazy Ocean

{ Continued from here with @goldenvisions and @roseredknuckles

The trees gave way quickly to a culvert that had been cut out of the rocks over so many years until it formed a sheltered cave. Though with a second glance, it was hard to tell if nature or man had shaped this one exactly like others of its kind. Kaylen stumbled at the edge, her heeled boots not well suited to the marshy terrain leading up to the hidden entrance or the mossy rock that floored the cave.

The puddles and high tide that flooded the cave pressed Kaylen to unloop her bag to drop at the entrance before she continued. But as she did so, a god awful shrieking sound caused a cacophony in the enclosed space. Kaylen dropped to a crouch, palms pinned over her ears as the sound continued to echo and resonate in her skull.

She became aware of the rhythmic sound of retreating steps a moment before she looked up to see the fisherman bolting out between some dangling roots and branches. No Felix. Was he still in there?

Panic mounted, Kaylen barely able to focus as she tore her boots from her feet. Her concern drove her into dimly lit space, squinting to find where Felix might have hidden, hoping he hadn't been impacted by the sound - whatever that had been. Her eyes adjusted slowly and she was only able to make out the swaying form of the man as he stumbled towards the water.

And fell in with a splash that echoed behind him.

Kaylen bolted, peeling off her jumper in the hopes it would give her an actual chance to drag the man back to the surface - if she could even stop his sinking in time. A second splash dropped her into the water, where the sunlight filtered in an angled shaft from the open ocean beyond the cave wall. The water was shockingly cold and she struggled to orient herself as she hunted for Felix's shape in the blurred scape around her.

He shouldn't have sunk that far yet...

[architekt-in-the-fog]

(🥂🐾) ꫂ ၴႅၴ ˎˊ˗

{Continued from here with @roseredknuckles

The mention of an unremembered past caused a slight disruption in Richter's stride. Cautious blue eyes flicked towards King before training back on the hall with a forced focus. Memories were things that guests surrendered and workers sacrificed. They were not to be held. The only memories that were ever certain were the ones required to perform their jobs - no more, no less.

They were also elephants in rooms for workers, who almost all had phantom recollections that were best left in the recesses of their mind if they didn't want to incur the wrath of the Entity.

Frightened that King might approach one of those elephants, Richter was relieved when he veered off towards humour. The flicker of alarm in his eyes warmed to a kind smile and a light chuckle. "Perhaps as long as the dogs are released in a room that is set to be removed...they could help with the demolition."

The ability to smile, to joke, to enjoy a moment of connection. Richter felt a deep yearning for it, absentmindedly walking closer to King. His attention to his task lapsed a moment, called back by the presence of a guest stood between doors with her face buried in her hands.

Lost? Already? Richter tried to assess the nature of her crying as they approached. It was impossible to know if a guest would be receptive to his human form if he could not see their face. Perhaps it was safer for him to transform, just in case. He raised a hand to motion for King to stay back. King wasn't a guide and might just alarm her further.

But as the transformation started, a realisation halted it before his ears could even form. This guest was...pregnant.

Richter froze. His thoughts shot to the unfinished room upstairs and he felt the blood drain from his face. His skull swarmed with memories he could not catch hold of to see, but which plagued him all the same. A distant voice called his name - a name he shouldn't remember, a name which his mind shoved away each time it tried to stick.

The flurry of memories pitched to a roar in his ears, screaming for him to take hold of them but never holding still long enough. The halls seemed to drop out around him. He was unsteady on his feet as he staggered back from this guest. His eyes darted around, unable to distinguish any real identifiable landmark to ground himself.

Until his eyes landed on King. Words crowded his mouth, unable to escape. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he mouthed a wordless "help" to the other man.

[occultairwaves]

@roseredknuckles

3 other people around this campfire and none would say a word. Sable tried, but they all seemed so... beat down. Far too much to speak, apparently.

Then, as quickly as they woke up around the fire, they were somewhere else entirely. A wintery scenery, with a large building full of holes on the sides. What the hell is going on?

Everyone spread out, except Sable, who stood there like a deer in headlights, taking in her surroundings.

Not far from her, there was a brown chest that she bent down to begin unlocking... maybe something inside would give her an answer. The chest clicked, ready to open, until she was pulled over someone's shoulder.

Sable screamed, she thrashed, she kicked, but nothing stopped what happened next -- her shoulder through a fucking meat hook.

Sable screeched at the top of her lungs, vision blurring from the pain, but she could make out a shadowy figure wearing a white mask lurking away from her.

She struggled; the pain was unimaginable, but she tried and tried to lift herself off the hook to no avail.

As luck would have it, someone came for her. One of the men that was around the fire before they were whisked away, he was lifting her off the hook and mending her wounds.

❝ Thank you-- ❞ Sable whispered, ❝ Please… can you tell me what's happening? ❞