#executionersghost

Oedon Chapel was rapidly thinning in the number of Yharnamites that were sheltering there. Tendrils of incense smoke skittered across the floor in a smoky blanket, the Chapel Dweller submerged in a deep slumber that was rare for them. Outside, the roaring of beasts and howling from afar might've filled most with despair and dread, but the way Sypha saw it, it was just another way to measure the passage of time. The redhead glanced up when they saw a flicker of movement, almost forgetting to speak.

tagged by @executionersghost (ty!), tagging... I think this one’s made the rounds by now but if you haven’t taken it yet, steal it and ping me!

Allie

mysterious bookstore owner. your bookstore/tea garden/cafe is a haven for many who were lucky enough to stumble across your (very well) hidden store. you may or may not be a very powerful immortal who now lives a quiet life. you share a likeness to someone in a photo hung up on your wall that was taken in 1902, but no one's really questioned it yet. only your most loyal customers are privy to your colourful past. oh the scandal and mystery of it all

Hm. Not especially accurate right now, but if she ever retired (or had an AU setting where she takes a less active role in things) this could be a vibe for sure!

Dravyn

shapeshifter. you adapt to situations and people rather quickly, and you pull it off so effortlessly, how sexy of you. still a little closed off, much to your many admirers' dismay. you could probably carry around a tiny blade strapped to your thigh and nobody would question it. in fact I think the drooling and gawking might increase by 30% at least.

How does he pull it off so effortlessly? It’s probably all the lying 😂 He’s okay with the 30% increase in gawking. He knows he’s a snack.

Fendel

Greek mythology entity. a hush falls over the crowd just by the mere mention of your name. you've been around, you've done and seen it all, and you're still thirsty for knowledge and power. your conquests are heard of all around the world, especially how great you look in leather pants. seriously no one's managed to pull this look off, props to you.

I don’t really want to picture him in leather pants, but experienced and still craving knowledge? Has a reputation (among certain people)? Yep. Absolutely.

Kel

angel. all eyes are always fixed on you every time you enter a room. no matter what colour your wings are, you embody that colourful aura and everyone is drawn to you. you may not be one for too many words, but your eyes convey many feelings with just one look. be a little obsessed with yourself, I promise you it's ok.

Oh, that’s quite all right, Miss-

Marion gave a light laugh- sound buried in his scarf. He clapped when the music had faded off, a grin making itself known as his hands did the talking- [Beautiful! I loved it. Thank you.] 

Truth be told, he hadn’t expected anything- but the gift of Alfred’s playing? Heartwarming. He didn’t actually know the other could play, and signed his question after- [How long have you been playing for?] Personally, Marion had never been very musically inclined- he enjoyed it, and his mother had insisted on violin, but he hated reading music and barely practiced anymore- 

It’s been a long night.  It’s the wrong night to be out, if you can help it at all.  If you do have to be out, some places are safer than others.  The hunter Jason has spent a lot of the night actively breaking into new pockets of danger, shining the harsh light of discovery on worse horrors than those roaming the streets.  He would rather not have to, but now that he’s caught up in this mess it seems the only way to see the sunrise is to find it himself.  The Forbidden Woods is a fine example of a terrible place, packed in a more terrible sense with monsters and death, which absolutely nobody needed to wake up.  There are paths, so Jason has followed them, retracing his steps as needed when traps and wolfish townspeople put his progress to a halt. 

He’s watching his footing, and listening for growls and rustling, when he hears crying and conversation.  He stops and sighs, deeply.  Unhappy as he is to be out here... couldn’t this place have given him more beasts, instead?  Dealing with beasts is as easy as staying alive.  He’s self-conscious around polite company on a good day, and it can’t help anything that he’s tired as hell, covered in blood, and dragging around a giant saw.  Saving townspeople is an important part of this job he didn’t want, though.  Maybe the most important part.  So he wipes his face with a sleeve that’s just as dirty and wanders closer.

“Oh!” he says automatically, when he turns a bend and sees who’s been making conversation.  It would be the most natural scene in the world, of one person comforting another, were it not for the fact that --

This new mixture was working quite well, as far as she was concerned. Charley had separated the blood cocktail into smaller containers in preparation for exploring the narrow roads and crooked roofs of the old town. It still smoldered in some places, causing her to have brought her scarf up around her face in an effort to keep from becoming short of breath. 

The victims of the scourge here were small, for the most part, and largely skittish, she had observed. They had been closed off from the rest of Yharnam and must have developed slightly differently. The patients were easy to frighten off with fire, if the treat of blood did not tantalize them, though she had taken to avoiding them where ever possible. The results of such were so fascinating: when not in the presence of a foreign body, such as herself, they were entirely peaceful with one another. It made her feel guilty for disturbing them.