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A Living Shadow

Petyr's picture
Submission type:

He had been in a state of melancholy since he had awoken. Nothing new for him, actually. It had been his main disposition for a long time, something he wish'd would leave him. But he knew as long as everyone around him was a dumbass, or filthy, or the vile beings that somehow are both yet are content with their lives - CHOTA - he'd be depressed and angry at the world and it's idiotic inhabitants. 

He shrugged it off "Fuck it, where's my tea..." is all he could say as he rolled out of bed. Literally rolling straight out, as his bed had been a makeshift matress laying on the floor. He grumbled as he pushed off the floor and stood up, still clothed in the suit he liked to wear, and went over to the mask that had been laying nearby. He reached down with a groan, mumbling "Fuck it, I'm getting old. This is what I get for not letting someone shoot me in the face..." and picked it up, putting the straps around his ears to tighten it on.

With a long stretch he shuffled out of the bedroom and reached into his suit pocket, producing a small portable radio - his collar one always being off - and turned something random on, a smooth voice belonging to a seemingly middle aged female came on and sang.

"When you walked, through the door, it was cleaaary to me! You're the one, they adore, who they caaame to see!"

Petyr hadn't really cared what was playing as long as he got white noise to block out anyone foolish enough to start a conversation before he had his tea. He walked out the front door and shuffled his way around town. First to the store to buy a cup of tea - which he enjoyed very much - then to the bank to withdraw some materials, and then return home. It wasn't a long walk, but it was his routine for the past few weeks.
Only this time, he stopped outside his door. He had noticed them nearby, there was a gathering of children, teens and young adults surrounding an elderly man outside the house across from his.
He growled and turned off his radio, deciding to hear it for himself,

"Matter fact, make me a birthday cake. With a sawblade in it to mak--"

He walked up to the crowd and pushed his way to the front so he was standing near the old man.

"And he stalks these very streets! Snatching up children that are stupid enough to wander alone at night. He entices you with promises of things you love. Wealth, contentment, love. It is rumored he comes from an ancient town, one called Antioch, long buried beneath the sand of the Canyon with trees growing out!"
"And what does he look like?" Petyr remarked, unimpressed by the old man's tall tale
The elder merely cackled disturbingly "He looks like a bird he does!" he smacked his lips together a few times "His face is long, like a bird's beak! He wears a hat, and a duster, black as night! They call him El Cuervo, or El Grajo!"

Petyr laughed at the old man and walked back across the street, as he heard calls of "You'll see!" and "Beware!" behind him. He turned his radio back on and listened to the song as he cooked his lunch.

"They know she will hunt and hurt tonight. And they crown her Queen of the Dead. Raven... On and on with her raven claws."


(OOC: If anyone is interested in learning more and/or helping me out a little, PM me in game or send a FERp message.)


Veronica Volt's picture

Oooh! Quoth el Cuervo, 'I want more!'

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