#ofcerberus

late nights are typically enjoyable on weekends. friday night through sunday night, the bombastic nature of salarymen after dark, coworkers, friends, and homebodies finally find themselves out in the world. from karaoke to drinks to stumbling through the streets-- it's all manner of mischief and mayhem. it's also great to watch from a distance. kuwabara had settled himself on a bench and was halfway through a sandwich and cigarette when he noticed a person opposite him in the park. were they-- watching him ? instead of discomfort, he faces the unsettling source head on by waving around his packet of smokes. ❝ you want one ? ❞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ❝ And here, I thought you would heed my word. ❞

A face, was seldom forgotten. Through the passage of time, some were covered with MASQUES, of the deceased, but not this one. No, not yet. His approach is slow, relaxed, in the way that - should it be needed - defense would be easy.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ Those upon two legs, truly are horrid listeners. ❞

Great legs slip to the side, and massive body comes to rest, eyes upon her moving naught.

@ofcerberus caught up to him.

ㅤ"I'm really not in the mood, so let's cut this short," he called out to the darkness, but he'd spent too long as a shadow to not recognize when another shadow had found its way to the mundane ones around him. It had kept its distance, but he knew it was closing in, so better to figure it out before he lead it somewhere it could do some damage. He wasn't armed, not beyond the fact that he was the weapon himself, but he found himself wishing he had something with a little more kick to it. Whatever was tailing him, it set off his instincts in a way that didn't bode well.

nosferatu sentence starters

"What are you D͞OI̛ŅĢ?̶" Hidden eyes had perceived a random act, the net, containing cloves of garlic, brandished in the same manner as a genuine weapon. And though legend and myth conspired to peddle the plant as one of a few items that proved effective when used against certain fanged bloodsuckers, nothing of note occurred when presented with the bag.

Head canting to the side, Vicious looked at it from an angle, both host and symbiote judging the garlic at once as navy-blue tendrils rose to prod its sides, touching it without issue. "Not a vampire." Adamant to prove his-- their -- point, one of the tendrils travels up the bag to coax it from her grip. Once obtained, the same inky matter comprising the tentacle begins to spread, reshaping itself to suit a new purpose; full consumption of the one-wielded garlic cloves

An audible crackle of plastic gave way to a wet, vaguely obscene crunch as the cloves disappeared one by one, swallowed by the shifting limb without visible issue. The texture, although unimpressive, was enough to cause the crown of crimson, twisted strands framing his head to flare subtly, rising like hackles in brief irritation. Miguel himself, unseen, bonded, grimaced, not from pain, but from the flavour, tasting the produce secondhand, through their parasitic connection.

@ofcerberus

She was right. He should care. So, the fact his shoulders just twitched upwards, into a dismissive shrug, was baffling to even him. All he ever wanted, since he'd been trapped into this tiny shell of a creature, was to return to the sea... in his entirety, a form to crush ships, and spark horror into every heart at the echoing thunder of his roar. Was it complacency? He'd lived so long like this, now. Maybe he'd given up. Maybe he just didn't see the point anymore... after all, every lead he'd followed before, any glimmer of hope of restoring himself, had been nothing but a waste of time. Maybe it was just acceptance.

Oh, he trusts her alright. The problem was he still didn't trust  himself.  Not one bit, and definitely not as far as he could throw something. Bob swallows a bit of his anxiety, head shaking as he sinks back down into his chair. He didn't want to argue with Moby. It'd end poorly, him in some kind of self-wallowing heap probably. He just...  couldn't agree with her. Not yet. It shows.

       ❝ Good's still capable of bad sometimes, Moby, ❞   he tries, gently. Then, even gentler.   ❝ I..   I appreciate it, I do, I just-  I..  I'm still learning.. That's all. ❞

arms that were once crossed lay at his sides, gaze narrowing to a razor sharp point. once again, his intuition was awarded with confirmation. there was, in fact, a visitor coming down the road in the distance. as the staunch defender of his home town, it was his duty to welcome this newcomer and ascertain whether or not they would be allowed to enter.