#forfaust

meet my muse as a child

Ruben wasn’t sure how he had wandered so far - he had only meant to take a short cut whilst carrying his heavy library books but he didn’t recognise the area of town at all. He wandered around aimlessly before he hears a burst of action a short distance away, a burglar shouting as a cop pushes him to the floor and cuffs him. There was his help.     — “ Officer, could you help me get home? I’m lost. “ Ruben was trying to be polite, unaware of how off tone he sounded considering the state of the situation.

Wiping the sweat and bits of blood from his forehead - a well aimed punched had crazed his forehead earlier - the young police officer blinks in surprise while his other hand is still holding down the struggling thief, waiting for some reinforcement - or at least his partner - to come and help him with the situation.

His body weight is enough to keep the guy from struggling for now, and Sebastian allows himself a moment or two to be baffled about the question the boy has just asked him, as if he wasn’t just trying to keep a criminal from escaping.

-

Leslie’s own little cell had a somewhat faulty door. If you held the door up a little, and pushed outwards, it would open, locked or not. Leslie was more than a little grateful to fate for placing him in that particular cell, granted him the ability to wander to and fro whenever it suited him, or rather.. Whenever this floor wasn’t populated with staff who knew the routines around here, who knew when and where Leslie ought to be when he wasn’t.

 It wasn’t often during daylight hours would Leslie take advantage of it, it was too risky. But during visiting hours, when people from the outside would visit family on the inside, people’s attentions were elsewhere, staff were generally else where, holding up Beacon’s gilded image. 

 So, for at least a little while, Leslie needn’t be confined to a cell, and walked about freely, feeling rather relaxed with the solitude. Although, the risk of getting caught, or being seen, made it difficult to relax completely...

 And then, against his better wishes, his mind went completely anxious, a multitude of elements when boiled down, told Leslie he was much more comfortable confined to a cell then out here.  He would agree, this time.

 Before he could turn and re-trace his steps back, a little voice addressed him.

 In slight shock, Leslie jumped. Still for a moment, before looking to the voice that spoke to him. 

 A child? A little boy, in fact. Well dressed, with an eye-catching head of pale blonde hair. Leslie blinked, once, then again, harder. When his eyes opened again, even with his weakening eyesight, Leslie could be certain of what he saw.  It was indeed, a little boy, and he was asking Leslie if he was lost.

  Leslie looked around, confusedly. It was just the two of them, this ward would remain largely empty for a while longer. He seemed to appear quite out of nowhere.. Leslie’s hands rubbed his forearms idly as he thought. He must’ve been hallucinating, this didn’t make any sense. 

 But why would he suddenly hallucinate a little boy he’s never seen before?

 Leslie slowly knelt down, until he was crouched, eyes on the little boy’s. Ordinarily, he didn’t care for eye contact, but until he could be sure this child was even real, he didn’t want to take his eyes off him.

 He shook his head.  He wasn't lost, in fact, he was just on his way back to his cell. Or, room, as the child referred to it. 

bold - constants italics - recurring but not constant/past traits

absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | aimless | alcoholic | anxious | arrogant | bad liar | bigmouth | bigot | blindly obedient | blunt | callous | childish | chronic heroism | clingy | clumsy | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cowardly | cruel | cynical | delinquent | delusional | dependent | depressed | deranged | disloyal | ditzy | egotistical | envious | erratic | fickle | finicky | flaky | frail | fraudulent | guilt complex | gloomy | gluttonous | gossiper | gruff | gullible | hedonistic | humorless | hypochondriac | hypocritical | idealist | idiotic | ignorant | immature | impatient | incompetent | indecisive | insecure | insensitive | lazy | lewd | liar | lustful | manipulative | masochistic | meddlesome | melodramatic | money-loving | moody | naive | nervous | nosy | ornery | overprotective | overly sensitive | paranoid | passive-aggressive | perfectionist | pessimist | petty | power-hungry | proud | pushover | reckless | reclusive | remorseless | rigorous | sadistic | sarcastic | senile | selfish | self-martyr | shallow | sociopathic | sore loser | spineless | spiteful | spoiled | stubborn | tactless | temperamental | timid | tone-deaf | traitorous | un-athletic | ungracious | unlucky | unsophisticated | untrustworthy | vain | withdrawn | workaholic

She wandered far and wide, trying to get the detective and his friends, until she spotted a light in the distance. As she inched closer she found what appeared to be a manor. Initially she paid it no attention, but it appeared to be rather familiar to her. As though she had been there before. She found herself crawling over rapidly, intrigued. She tugged at the handles, unable to figure out exactly how it opened up. She tore the door down instead, pushing it with force and invited herself inside.

Something stirred in her, and while slightly calm all of a sudden, she found herself looking around the lobby.

FOR EVERY “⏳” I RECEIVE, MY MUSE WILL OPENLY TALK ABOUT A BIT OF THEIR BACKSTORY.

Drathenia stood away from the group of humans, curious. They shared a similar posture and proportions, but that was as far as their similarities went. She could hear their hearts thundering in their chests as they spoke hurriedly in their strange foreign tongue. It was a hunting party, in their hands they clutched sharpened sticks and others had the corpse of an animal over their shoulders. 

Hesitantly she took a small step forward, head tilted as she studied them. Drathenia hadn’t seen animals use tools or don clothes... it was fascinating. That was until the spear embedded itself into her chest. A high shriek left her as she tore it from her chest, her curiosity was replaced by rage. The hunting party did not return to their tribe.

“The first time I encountered humans they were frightened, aggressive and pathetically weak. It seems not much has changed.”

Vanishing mundanes were never a good thing. Most of the time they were dead, never to return. Sometimes they did return, bringing all sorts of messy questions and consquences to the table. And with them vanishing from a mental hospital of all places...this was ‘especially’ not good.

Alec hoped they were still alive..but he also knew better. The statistics weren’t on his side on that one. “Spread out.” He had four people with him, four good soldiers. He hoped they could cover more ground like this. Make sure that if something, the culprit, was trying to flee, at least one of them would notice. 

He himself made his way into the hospital’s entrance hall, an arrow drawn, the bowstring taut. Ready to shoot at any moment. It was quiet. There was nothing here, no panicking mundenes. In fact, no mundanes at all. But there were so many police cars out in the front, where have the police officers gone? Ah, here they were. Scattered all over the tile floor, dead in all sorts of ways. What kind of monster would do such a thing? Werewolf?