#silvershamrocked

“There is somethin’ at work in my soul, which I do not understand.”  Lavinia softly quotes 

Perhaps now wasn’t the time to be pulling out literature , but she’s a librarian with a soft spot for her favorite classic horror story. Leaning back a little on the library stairs the two were sitting on, Johnny had caught her while on break and talking led to sitting outside the building….led to her sitting just a little bit closer with her tired smile but mischievous eyes. She is so damn tired and for once she feels safe enough to let it show.

Grey ink would pass through the crack underneath the door and reform itself into the monster queen. A sigh of relief would part from her lips. Finally, a safe spot from all of this madness that was going on around her! She could catch her breath here and formulate her next objective. Right after her heart stops racing that is.

It was an uncharacteristically quiet evening in the church, John was by himself for once and, unfortunately, that meant he was alone with his thoughts. He sat in the front pew with his head bowed, hands together as if in prayer, but he knew it was pointless to try. God stopped listening to him decades ago, but he couldn't shake the habit no matter how hard he tried, the guilt would eat at him if he didn't go through the motions.

He was grateful for the sound of the doors opening, grateful that someone was there and could keep his mind free of Amy and the countless others he failed. John stood, turning and not recognizing the stranger-- definitely not part of the congregation. Even so John offered a polite smile, and a greeting.

PROMPTS FROM HALLOWEENTOWN (Accepting).

❝ I didn't. ❞ He might have never seen this lady until he decided to come to her doorstep, but he could already guess why nobody else did. ❝ When you don't have candy, you don't open the door! ❞ She had played it smart, though. Had she not opened the door, he would have hammered it in. Literally.

And here he thought only the church and that boarded-up house located in Skid's street were considered to be off-limits during Halloween night. Not like he had stopped visiting the latter after multiple threats. Nope! Somehow, after so many years in the trick-or-treating scene, he and his best friend had never set foot in The Cigarette Lady's, as he now was going to call her, doorstep. Until then, that is.

Credit where credit was due, at least she had handed Pump something: a box of cigarettes. Still sealed. Which he, understandably enough, would rather not have. He could not eat those! They smelled bad, and tasted even worse! Wait.

❝ And I might like burning stuff but-- ❞ After eyeing the red and white box for a moment, he simply rose it for the middle-aged lady to take back. ❝ --I don't want these, ma'am. ❞ But she probably did. ❝ They're all yours. ❞ Even past the doorway, it smelled like the word "flammable".

“Oh it was quite a darin’ escape out the second floor window.” Lavinia chuckles a little as she takes a sip from her water, unable to continue  with the joke “Hen’s watchin’ them for me. A sort of, he babysits the kids and I babysit the employees as I'm the only boss they’ll let loose around.”

The employees liked to cut loose at least three times a year, before spring /winter breaks and once for summer, and there was only one bar in town that could handle fitting a chunk of Fazbear workers. With an added bonus there was karaoke to laugh at friends and co workers being shit faced and trying to sing. 

“ Last time someone managed to steal the ceilin’ fan, somehow….and half of these mechanics went home in the wrong car.”

That would be why her purse was the current sacred holder of everyone’s keys so no one makes a stupid decision. 

“D-don’t tell daddy I was here, please.”

The young girl nervously fidgets with her outfit, obviously uncomfortable with the puffs and frills though getting caught wasn’t helping. Green eyes kept low on her mary janes, and it was evident on her little face and how her lip still quivered still that she had been crying earlier. 

Breath is held for a moment, a pause in trying to lift herself back up via the nearest table. Several papers lay scattered around and a wooden cane has rolled half under a nearby cabinet. 

Not the voice that Lavinia had expected to come from the now open once slammed shut door. God that meant their fight had been heard by wandering ears. Somehow this makes this situation worse. Cheeks hot with embarrassment and the sting on the left side of her face that hopefully won't leave a mark. Lavinia won't cry, she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of any tears even if he’s not present. 

“H-Hate to be a bother but would you mind-” Thankfully she still has good upper strength from her dancing years, only a second of struggle to fully pull herself up “ Helpin' me to retrieve this paperwork?”