#eldrytchs

“We gotta swap our skin with the snake-necked man . He says if we want to live , we have to.” He’s curled up with a pillow to his chest — mumbling quietly in his sleep .

Typically     they     each     had     separate     rooms,     dingy     motels     that     Ciri     detested     with     too     thin     walls     and     too     rude     desk     clerks.     But     sometimes,     they     shared,     Stern     always     offering     her     the     bed     if     there     was     only     one.     Tonight,     they’d     been     blessed     with     two,     the     𝑺𝑯𝑬     𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹     rising     with     the     moon     and     allowing     its     light     to     pour     over     her     bed,     illuminating     dusty     old     volumes     she’d     stolen     borrowed     from     the     local     bookstore     to     try     and     read     up     on     this     “werewolf”     they     were     chasing.     She     munches     idly     on     the     burger     Stern     had     bought     her     earlier     in     the     night,     a     paper     bag     full     of     them     on     the     table     separating     their     bed.     Sucking     ketchup     off     her     fingers,     she     looks     over     to     his     side     of     the     room,     a     single     silver     brow     quirking     upward     at     the     sound     of     his     voice.     “Stern?”

Popping     the     last     bit     of     her     food     into     her     mouth,     Ciri     scrubs     her     hands     with     napkins,     rising     swiftly     to     her     feet     and     taking     the     short     leap     from     her     bed     to     his,     taking     care     to     only     lightly     jostle     him.     “Hey     Steeeeeeeeern.”     Perching     next     to     him,     she     taps     gently     his     nose,     brows     wrinkling     in     confusion     as     she     listens.     “What     the     fuck     —     Stern.     Joey,     sweetie,     I     need     you     to     wake     up     now.”     The     Snake     Necked     Man     sends     shivers     wracking     down     her     spine,     the     image     alone     nearly     causing     her     to     gag.     “Alright,     no     more     sugar     before     bed     for     you.”     Slapping     gently     at     his     cheek,     Ciri     lets     out     a     squawk     as     he     swipes     back     at     her     reflexively,     𝑺𝒉𝒆     𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒇     baring     sharp     teeth     in     the     process.     “Screw     you,     I’m     going     back     to     bed.”

For whatever he knew, the good, the bad, and most importantly ugly, came very limited. What he knew and the reality of matters were two very different occurrences all together.

Still… that discussion or even thought process was for ‘better men’ one’s that most likely would ponder for decades the meaning of life. the meaning of what it was like to be alive or even dead for that matter - philosophers all the same. 

It wasn’t for men like him; the one’s who don’t remember, who had no true meaning, and who wondered endlessly trying to find a new route to make them feel whole. it wasn’t for men who stayed hidden for years and lurked from the shadows.

It was for far more educated and bored men to ponder.

Not Vince Von’ar,

However, that didn’t mean he would not at least try to answer the question in a way that he thought was at least somewhat truthful and non-bias.

❝ You ask what some might never grasp. To be one who’s walked this road for ages brings not just wisdom, but worry. A simple action may not have large consequences, but even a single spark could quite possibly destroy an entire town.  ❞ A simple admission, nothing more, and nothing less. Vince wasn’t prone to talking in riddles, but he did know that sometimes, you had to twist your words just enough to make an impact.

❝ Curious they may be, but, ❞ he trails off for a few moments, ❝ there are times where it does far more damage than good. Far more harm than what you’re originally going for and so i pose a simple question to you. Nothing more and nothing less. ❞

❝ Does my presence... unsettle the one’s here? ❞

“Who says its a bet ? Can’t I take someone out for proper dinner?” hes grinning !!

            the top of his head barely makes it past the piles of papers framing his desk, but Kakashi manages to cast an unamused, heavy-lidded stare at the other man that hints at a silent suffering. exhaling softly, he rests folded arms upon the wooden surface, head drooping slightly between slumped shoulders. 

        𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧. good agent stern has arrived just in time for the festivities, it would seem; the only other guest awaits them in the embalming room, miraculously untouched, if only only because of stern’s ideally timed interception. otherwise, whatever undiscovered story that had been etched into the body of this man could have been tampered with ... ( his family had chosen his ensemble for the burial; konstantin has it safely stored away. )