* GALLOWS .

❛ 𝔦'𝔪 𝔫𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔬 ❜

[crowtesque]

[ulfeid]

art by: Jade Mere

[lcstrega]

“Aeva. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mister Bartleby Gallows.” She gave a wider smile, the ripple on the water that would later reveal the bait below. Tucking hair behind her ear, she cleared her throat. 

“I heard a rumor, you know.” She stopped in her tracks, eyes drifting toward the run down, driftwood buildings nearby. “That there’s a mad butcher putting people into pies, and selling the flesh of man. I don’t know if I believe it, but I do see most perusing the fish markets these days.”

Feigning discomfort, her head went down, mouth watering. She’d been very careful not to overindulge, but it had grown more difficult to silence her hunger. Soon, she feared, she’d have to dine on the already buried again.

“Come to think of it, the person I heard that from– I haven’t seen him since last week.” Soon, they’d be on the trail to her cabin in the woods, “Are you here because of the disappearances?”

[thehangcdman-blog]

---- ---“The pleasure is all mine, madam.”

The wind whistled through the brush as they plodded on, the utterances of a storm on the horizon. As she came to a stop, so did Gallows, adjusting the basket from one shoulder to the other as the woman told him of the town’s plight. 

“I cannot say I am expressly here because of that, no.” He shook his head with a grim expression. “But now that I am here, I am tempted to look into the matter more closely.”

He, too, had heard the tales of the mad butcher, but had written them off as the superstition of old fish wives; tales told to children to keep them fearful and obedient. No, in Gallows’ experience, disappearances with the staggering frequency as the ones occurring in this town were often attributable to a monster hidden among the citizenry. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, as it were. And he knew it couldn’t be him, as he had only just arrived not a few days past. 

“I’ve heard it said that these woods are haunted by the spirit of some harlot what the town drove out some fifty years past,” he said, golden eyes looking to the wode in question, then back to Aeva. “What do you make of that? You live out here, see any strange men wandering about in the small hours of the morning?”

[lcstrega]

He wasn’t unlike a few stragglers she’d seen, and each bit of weathering on his person told a different story; battles, losses, victories, perhaps even love. Eyes of green looked to the reaching arm, hesitant to hand over her day’s bounty. Foxglove, chamomile, valerian, thistle… she could sell just about anything she could put in a tea, damn the potential consequences.

After a long pause, she surrendered the basket, clutching her red shawl closed to keep the chill of the sea away, nodding to him in thanks.

“Home, before the sun sets. I trust not the streets at night, ever since the bandits and cutthroats became more wily. I hope you’ve somewhere to stay. The tavern isn’t the safest place, but… I think you would fit in just fine, no offense, sir.” She gave a short laugh, “You’re big and intimidating, I suppose is what I’m trying to say.”

[thehangcdman-blog]

“No offense taken,” he laughed off her remark regarding his stature, hefting her basket of reagents over his shoulder with little effort. “I’m what you might call an... itinerant soul, so if I do not seem at home in a tavern, then I should think something may be very wrong.” 

This woman was certainly the friendliest person Gallows had encountered during his stay in this land, which made him rather suspicious of her intentions. In a town full of people who wouldn’t so much as spit in the general direction of a stranger without a leer, her demeanor stuck out like sore thumb.

“Well, should I make you late, trust that you are in good company, as I fear no wily bandits.” Again, he smiled, this time the handsome grin lingering for longer on his chapped lips. “What I am leery of, however, is the sudden and unexplained disappearances of men around the town in the night. People talk and I hear it all--- the townsfolk seem convinced it may be the work of some beast.”

“I’m Gallows, by the way.” He said, extending a hand in the woman’s direction as they walked. “But you may call me Bartleby, if you should like.”

[thehangcdman-blog]

@lcstrega (x)

“’Tis how I meant it.” The hunter flashed the woman the ghost of a charming grin, running a bandaged hand back through his messied locks of salt and pepper. Haggard and slovenly as he would appear outwardly, clothed in a worn leather longcoat and loose raglan clothes, his sun-kissed flesh covered in old, faded tattoos that had long lost their meaning, Gallows carried himself as a gentleman. Every movement seemed practiced and every gesture measured; precise, down to even the inflection of his words. 

“As for your full set of teeth, I’m certain they make you the envy of the town.” He snarked, reaching for the basket she carried under her arms. "Here, allow me to relieve you of your burdens, good woman. Where are you and this lovely bouquet headed?”