Multi Character Madness

Feels awesome to be getting this lineup filled out.

Misc. sentence & symbol starters - “I’m afraid of a lot of things. You’re not one of them.”

Mike scratched at a peeling chip of paint on the windowsill where the condensation pooled over the years. "Maybe you should be," he muttered, finally, long after the rain stopped tapping out the seconds on the glass. There was no bite to it; why would there be? There was no anger any more, only a simple, unavoidable truth. And he could never be angry at Lyle.

He was glad, though. Maybe it was selfish of him. Selfish to want someone around, despite the threat he posed, the danger that seemed to follow him in his shadow. He'd only blame himself if Lyle got hurt, but...

The renovation had been a spur of the moment decision, motivated mainly by a desire to rip out and bury all that remained of the past. And Ash deserved somewhere nice to live now he had decided to stick around. Sera, too, when she swung by. He wasn't sure where she went when she didn't, but when he asked she'd given him some bull about girls needing secrets.

Well, she'd managed nearly twenty years on her own. His heart twisted painfully in his chest.

"Duncan would probably be able to tell you about times hes made a scene at events if you ever ask him. When he stops...well...trying to prank you all the time." He sighs as he grabs the trench coat he left by the door. It wasn't his old one but it was close enough. He did love that one, but you can only repair so much.

Misc. sentence & symbol starters - “I’m afraid of a lot of things. You’re not one of them.”

Mike scratched at a peeling chip of paint on the windowsill where the condensation pooled over the years. "Maybe you should be," he muttered, finally, long after the rain stopped tapping out the seconds on the glass. There was no bite to it; why would there be? There was no anger any more, only a simple, unavoidable truth. And he could never be angry at Lyle.

He was glad, though. Maybe it was selfish of him. Selfish to want someone around, despite the threat he posed, the danger that seemed to follow him in his shadow. He'd only blame himself if Lyle got hurt, but...

Oh well. It was Eric's fault for throwing pearls before swine.

He drained the rest of his tea and dumped the mug into the sink. A dishwasher was definitely one of the additions he wanted for the new kitchen. And Ash wanted lots of storage and prep space... maybe they could spend the rest of the afternoon at the hardware store.

Just two guys, looking at cabinets and fittings. Y'know, guy things. Not a date.

"Leo's sounds alright. Do you have in mind that we should look for there?" Lyle was a bit slower drinking his own cup but once Mike suggested going elsewhere he took a big swig to get the rest before nabbing a final cookie to go.

Getting some fresh air after all the dust and spiders sounded like a great idea. Plus it was nice to hang out more with Mike.

Send me an emoji for a plot/starter, all of them related to horror and social media. Feel free to adjust the placement of my/your when sending these to decide for yourselves which muse plays which part.

💀 - My muse has been dead for over a month when your muse starts getting messages from their social media account, but no one else has access to it.

😰 - Our muses are watching videos together, when they come across what could be a real disturbing event caught on film.

😀 - Your muse has been blocked by mine over and over again, but they keep making more and more social media accounts just to stalk them.

😈 - My muse confronts yours about a chain letter they sent them over email. They thought it would be funny, but now strange things are actually happening.

😖 - My muse gets a follow/friend request from your muse and thinks they seem interesting. However, one quickly begins to realize the other muse may be stalking them.

🤐 - Our muses have never met in person, but one day your muse notices mine tagging themselves in all of your muse’s photos. In the background in the shadows. In a dark window. Behind a cracked door. In the closet.

👽 - Our muses see something they can’t explain and manage to get it on camera. But when they upload it to social media and start getting a lot of attention, it mysterious disappears. And suddenly they’re seeing strange people outside their homes and following them wherever they go.

👻 - Our muses meet on a forum about ghosts and the paranormal while sharing their own experiences.

🤡 - While looking through a gallery of photos our muses took together on a date/trip, they notice a strange figure in the background of every photo, watching them.

🕵️ - My muse has been talking with someone on a dating app for a while, but your muse doesn’t trust them. They think something is wrong, and are trying to convince my muse to be cautious (perhaps after some online digging uncovers an unpleasant secret).

Misc. sentence & symbol starters - “I’m afraid of a lot of things. You’re not one of them.”

Mike scratched at a peeling chip of paint on the windowsill where the condensation pooled over the years. "Maybe you should be," he muttered, finally, long after the rain stopped tapping out the seconds on the glass. There was no bite to it; why would there be? There was no anger any more, only a simple, unavoidable truth. And he could never be angry at Lyle.

He was glad, though. Maybe it was selfish of him. Selfish to want someone around, despite the threat he posed, the danger that seemed to follow him in his shadow. He'd only blame himself if Lyle got hurt, but...

"Well, you can take a guess at who most of this belongs to 'cause I can't bake worth a damn. He might give you the recipe if you ask nicely." Mike made a face at the mention of Martin's... methods. He might be a tea heathen as far as Eric was concerned, but at least he didn't go that far; he wasn't an animal. "Your brother is insane, you know that right?"

Well, here goes nothing. After adding his customary splash of milk, it looked right. He took a cautious sip. "I don't know if I expected some kinda revelation," he said, squinting at it, "but it's pretty much the same."

Misc. sentence & symbol starters - “I’m afraid of a lot of things. You’re not one of them.”

Mike scratched at a peeling chip of paint on the windowsill where the condensation pooled over the years. "Maybe you should be," he muttered, finally, long after the rain stopped tapping out the seconds on the glass. There was no bite to it; why would there be? There was no anger any more, only a simple, unavoidable truth. And he could never be angry at Lyle.

He was glad, though. Maybe it was selfish of him. Selfish to want someone around, despite the threat he posed, the danger that seemed to follow him in his shadow. He'd only blame himself if Lyle got hurt, but...

"S'pose everyone does," Mike muttered, poking at the jug as it transmuted from water to something resembling tea. Maybe if their lives never crossed they'd both be better off for it. Maybe he'd still have Gael, and Eric would have two working legs.

But there wasn't any point in thinking about maybes and what ifs, now. It wasn't fair on either of them. It certainly wasn't fair on Lyle. Looking back at him, Mike's expression softened slightly. He hoped that he wouldn't have the same effect on him that he seemed to have on everyone else in his life.

A black hole, Eric had called him.

"They're good right?" He nodded at the plate. "And there's no butter or eggs or anything. I dunno how the kid does it."

Misc. sentence & symbol starters - “I’m afraid of a lot of things. You’re not one of them.”

Mike scratched at a peeling chip of paint on the windowsill where the condensation pooled over the years. "Maybe you should be," he muttered, finally, long after the rain stopped tapping out the seconds on the glass. There was no bite to it; why would there be? There was no anger any more, only a simple, unavoidable truth. And he could never be angry at Lyle.

He was glad, though. Maybe it was selfish of him. Selfish to want someone around, despite the threat he posed, the danger that seemed to follow him in his shadow. He'd only blame himself if Lyle got hurt, but...

"Eric's started doing that with the fire, too," Mike snorted. "I like it a lot more from you."

Ah, fuck it. He dumped what looked roughly like the right amount into a jug, and when the kettle dinged he dumped its contents unceremoniously over the top. He could picture Eric pulling his hair out, squawking something about the temperature of the water, what was supposed to go first, how many times he was supposed to stir clockwise—the thought lit a savage little spark of glee inside.

"Yer lucky," He groused as he turned back to the cupboards to figure out where the hell he put the sugar. "My life would be a bit less shit without him in it."

That was a little unfair. But only a little. And he deserved it.

Misc. sentence & symbol starters - “I’m afraid of a lot of things. You’re not one of them.”

Mike scratched at a peeling chip of paint on the windowsill where the condensation pooled over the years. "Maybe you should be," he muttered, finally, long after the rain stopped tapping out the seconds on the glass. There was no bite to it; why would there be? There was no anger any more, only a simple, unavoidable truth. And he could never be angry at Lyle.

He was glad, though. Maybe it was selfish of him. Selfish to want someone around, despite the threat he posed, the danger that seemed to follow him in his shadow. He'd only blame himself if Lyle got hurt, but...

Mike's eyes followed the smouldering corpse as it drifted to the floor, pity twinging in whatever passed for a heart for him. It was kind of his fault that the resident spiders were homeless now. That, and he could've taken the time to sweep them up before stopping for a break. "Sorry, I'll clean 'em up after."

The box Eric gave him still sat, abandoned, on the kitchen counter, wrapped in a neat little bow and everything. What, was it supposed to be a 'sorry your boyfriend is dead'? Or 'sorry I ruined your life'?

Whatever.

Kettle on, milk out. He found two mugs in the back of the cupboard that hadn't been chipped yet and checked them for spiders. While the water boiled he squinted at the little box, struggling to decipher the looping script embossed in gold on the front. "Orange pekoe, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean."

How was he supposed to measure this stuff? Did he even own a fancy tea strainer?

The silence seemed to stretch on as he followed Mike to the kitchen, making Lyle worry he might've messed up by torching that spider. Mike wasn't the easiest guy to read sometimes but then again Lyle's nerves might still be a bit shot still. Fending off monsters in the night for a few months wasn't too great for those....on top of other...things.

If he jolted a little when Mike read out the tea's name, he really hoped Mike didn't notice as he calmed his expression. He barely caught what the name was and felt too embarrassed to ask Mike to repeat it. It couldn't taste all that bad though could it?

Misc. sentence & symbol starters - “I’m afraid of a lot of things. You’re not one of them.”

Mike scratched at a peeling chip of paint on the windowsill where the condensation pooled over the years. "Maybe you should be," he muttered, finally, long after the rain stopped tapping out the seconds on the glass. There was no bite to it; why would there be? There was no anger any more, only a simple, unavoidable truth. And he could never be angry at Lyle.

He was glad, though. Maybe it was selfish of him. Selfish to want someone around, despite the threat he posed, the danger that seemed to follow him in his shadow. He'd only blame himself if Lyle got hurt, but...

So he waited, ignoring the muttered comment that lacked any bite, for Mike to face him. The man seemed so downcast that he just wanted to offer some comfort, at least helping clean up his place was something he could do for now.