Hi so I was plagued by a vision in the middle of class and was barely able to control myself until about two hours ago
Basically my OC in @wr-ns Eldritch Twins au talking with Lech (bc I love him). A bit long and rushed, forgive any character inconsistencies lol
CW! One instance of blood and death, very brief but still described. Stay safe
“May I ask you some questions?” The stranger asked, their voice as flat as their expression.
Lech narrowed his sockets, looking the stranger up and down. They were a skeleton, and looked young, maybe early twenties, with a chip of their left socket gone. Dressed in muted colors and clothing that covered but clung to their bones, a ribbon tied around their spine. Their eyelights trained on his jacket, and a small notebook was tucked under their arm.
“I don’t talk to strangers.” Lech replied, putting out his cigar butt while reaching for the taser in his pocket.
The stranger considered this, checked inside their notebook, then nodded. “Right, I am Dignity, and I would like to ask you some questions regarding…things.”
Lech raised a brow. “Things?” He echoed.
“I’ve found that topics are best brought up subtly instead of directly, as they make some uncomfortable.” Dignity said, their voice monotone. Lech would have found their approach a bit endearing if he weren’t jaded, tired, or if the subject was anything else.
“Well you’re right.” He grumbled, hand now gripped tightly around the taser.
“I know,” Dignity nodded. “So, what do you think about the weather? And, what can you tell me about an entity of death?”
Lech’s sockets widened, taking a step away from them. “What?”
“The weather.” Dignity repeated, pointing to the sky. “What do you think of it?”
“No,” Lech snapped. “The other thing,”
“Now that you brought it up,” Dignity nodded, properly opening their notebook. Lech caught a glimpse at a few pages, every inch of the paper was covered in words, red pen, and highlighted sections. Notes in margins and red pen corrections on sticky-notes on pages. “I do have some questions for you regarding an entity that embodies death and/or decay. I’ve yet to find a definite answer. I will make it quick.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You do.”
“I don’t.”
“I’m sure you are, many sources that I have found talk about these gods, or beings, have thralls that they–”
“I’m not his thrall.” Lech snapped, too fast to stop himself.
A bird dropped from the sky, hitting a nearby trashcan on its way, and hitting the concrete with a wet splat. Blood burst from under it, framing the black body with red. Lech rolled his eyelights.
Dramatic bitch. Lech thought, wishing he had his cigar back.
He heard Dignity writing furiously in their book. “So you do know of it?”
Lech grumbled. “I’d rather pretend not to.”
Dignity hummed, flipping through pages in their notebook. “That seems to be an outlier opinion. Most would be ecstatic for attention from these beings.
Lech clicked his tongue. “Most people don’t have to deal with dead animals on their lawns every morning.”
“Interesting.” Dignity mused, writing in their notebook. Lech’s socket twitched, if only they knew the half of it. “Would you mind answering my questions, then?”
“The less you know, the better, kid.”
“I am not ‘kid,’” Dignity corrected, taking out a red pen to scratch something out. “And I already know quite a bit, you were the only loose end of information. All I need is confirmation or denial of what I have found.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why do I need to confirm them?”
“The cults dedicated to the being of death have all blacklisted me, and I have yet to find them again. You were the next best option, despite finding you being more difficult than I anticipated.” Dignity said, turning to a middle page, adding something in pencil.
“Maybe I don’t like being found.”
“Most don’t.” Dignity confirmed.
“So do you just not care about that, then?” Lech asked.
“I have trouble feeling.” Dignity answered smoothly. “If I cannot feel then I need to know how to feel, and to know how to feel about something is to know what I’m trying to feel about.”
Lech paused, needing to replay their words in his head. “Right…”
“Information means feeling, and feeling means normalcy.” Dignity continued. “On
everything.”
“Do you ever regret getting this…information?” Lech asked, taking out a tube of lipstick.
Dignity’s pencil stopped, looking up from their notebook, staring at nothing ahead. The silence stretched longer than Lech would have thought, from his experiences, the answer was usually a resounding no, or no answer at all, as if they hadn’t heard it.
“Yes.” Dignity finally said, “I wish I had never found that missing poster. I can't think of anything but what I don’t know. It’s always at the back of my mind, a nagging itch I cannot scratch. I cannot sleep and when I do I only have nightmares of being buried under these missing posters. I cannot focus on anything but these things, these…gods.” Dignity rambled, their voice cracking with the slightest bit of fearful desperation. “Every time I answer one mystery another is revealed, or more missing posters show up, or more articles and tomes appear in the library. I was evicted from my apartment, and am living in an abandoned warehouse. My hands hurt from writing, my sockets burn, and when I try to focus on anything else, the itch gets stronger. And my head hurts. Gods, my head always hurts.”
Dignity touched their forehead, as if talking about it made the pain worse. When they continue, their voice is softer. “The more I find, the harder it is to keep track of myself. I sometimes catch someone's eye to realize that they were just my own reflection. I feel physically and mentally unstable when the world slows down, like someone is pulling at a stray thread in my mind. Slowly…slowly…” Dignity trailed off, their eyelights glazing over.
“And what’s worse,” They continued, “I feel as if they know I’m looking for them, and they only give me clues to watch me spiral further.”
“But you get information.” Lech said flatly, closing his small pocket mirror as he finished applying the lipstick during Dignity’s monologue. Did he know what this ‘missing poster’ that they found was? No. Did he care? Not particularly, but the more they talked about themselves, the less questions they asked about him.
Dignity nodded. “I will find them.” They said, emotionless but determined. “I found you.” They pick their pencil back up, noting something down. “Now are you willing to answer my questions?”
Lech’s eyelights flicked over to them.
“I read that sharing personal hardships builds rapport.” Dignity said. “You are the first I have tried this on, however. So, forgive me if I shared too much.”
The "Vampire Chronicles thinks being queer is basically inextricably linked to pedophilia and they're all just really cool and misunderstood because morality doesn't really exist" -> "True Blood thinks queer people are very hot in a freaky fetishy way but also you can't ever trust them or expect them to stay monogamous and maybe sometimes you gotta kill the too-flamboyant nasty bad ones" -> "Twilight isn't quite sure that queer people actually exist don't ask us about that it makes us uncomfortable" pipeline
Plus the reverse "Vampire Diaries is racist because it was heavily inspired by True Blood" to "True Blood is racist because it was heavily inspired by The Vampire Chronicles" to "The Vampire Chronicles is racist because Anne Rice is just an overtly unrepentant white supremacist" pipeline
