#warren h.

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RANDOM MUSE 140 / 148 - WARREN HAWTHORNE.

'i have to admit, i have been following you for some time now,' yet, it was the first time the creature had truly revealed itself, standing in will graham's yard, the begin's hands clasped together in front of his waist. eyes traveled along the pack of dogs that ran from the open front door, ignoring warren completely as they enjoyed their freedom outside. eyes slowly moved back up to the man standing on the porch, the man warren had grown somewhat accustomed to watching over the last year. the reaper had always been intrigued by humans, but will was different from many others warren had latched onto. death spoke of him often, and warren understood why as soon as he took a peek into will's actual life. 'i would tell you i mean you no harm, but i am afraid you would not believe me,' warren's words were slow, deliberate, as he spoke. 'will you have a conversation with me? i would grately appreciate it,' @shilohgreen.

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'do you ever get tired of it? living, i mean,' it is not meant to mock or berate, but a true curiosity, one warren gives with an earnest look in vibrant eyes. he supposed he understood immortality. then again, he hadn't been a human for years, didn't remember what it was like, could not say who he was before he became what he is now. the undead that walked the earth were different, and he was sure they felt differently about their own mortality, as well. 'i have met many creatures like you, but have also gotten many different answers. i should like to hear yours,' @giallifilm / silas.

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there are things outside of his reach, of his control. warren is not death, but only the great entity's apprentice. warren is not all knowing, nor all seeing, but he has been made privy to many things those lower than him would never get to know. how the world truly works, for example. how death may consume all, but the paths that come after death were chosen by those who would move on from it. staring upon the house on the hill, warren places his hands behind his back - watching. waiting. the kids play, they come home when the porch light shines across the dark yard, and the family is happy. for now. when warren enters hill house, the night encompassing the entirety of the structure, he finds mother crain up and walking while the rest of her family sleeps. warren follows, silent. she could see him if she wanted to, but for now, he wanders along with her through the house, unable to interfere, but curious as to what she would do as she's further and further possessed by the house. @000warning.

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JOSEPHINE WEAVER: DANCE. SENDER STICKS A HAND OUT TO RECEIVER AND INVITES THEM TO DANCE. he doesn't remember being a human, but he knows that he once was one. no memories touch his mind of before he became what he is now. warren was, one day, simply here, existing in the darkness with death, standing by its inevitable side forevermore. but despite having no recollection of a human life, he did find the lives of humans fascinating. and despite warnings against getting too close to those that will wither and die, warren has chosen to follow his curiosity - something that only grows as josephine puts on the soft sound of music, holding out a hand for him to take. 'i've never danced, before,' he admits, but places his larger hand in hers, the two pulling each other close enough to begin swaying back and forth. eyes glance over the woman's features, second hand landing on the small of her back. 'am i doing it correctly?' @literare.