Don't Give Up Your Ghost
Mephistopheles
thinking "speech" "others" He wasn't particularly far from home, though it was a bit beyond his usual haunts. The bobbing and dipping fireflies, blue as the moon overhead, had lured him further east. It was only when the russet deity realized his paws were beginning to slip and slide over muddy terrain that he seemed to faze back into focus. The heady aroma of decay and mud were carried upon the humid air of the mangrove, along with a vaguely familiar scent. Cerulean gaze bleary as he peered about, the phoenix finally found his eyes landing on the small form of a dame he'd run into a few times already. She had yet to introduce herself, and the mystique surrounding her continued to entertain and enthrall him. Long limbs carried him smoothly forth, trailing after the fae who seemed to be charting a very specific course through the mangroves. "Afternoon, doll. Or perhaps it's evening now?" he crooned with a lopsided grin, making no effort to catch up beyond the few feet by which he trailed behind her. He wanted to say more, to draw her into another fun brawl, but the moment his mouth opened, a voice drifted in on the wind. Abomination.. a reedy, breathy whisper trickled through the thick fur of his ears and slithered into his brain. Hesitating mid stride over the tangled roots of the mangrove trees, he looked around. All he could see were those damned fireflies, dancing to and fro as they seemed to gather every closer to him. Wary and unsettled, his eyes narrowed as he cast his gaze over the strange formation of fireflies that amassed around him and began to drift along somewhere above the mysterious dame while she walked. Disgrace.. The whispers seemed to follow the path of the spectral insects, but they couldn't possibly be the source.. could they? Bugs don't talk. He picked up his pace again, trying to catch up to where he'd been following after the dark furred woman. "Do you hear something?" he sought to pass the question off as casual, off the cuff. However, his mind was already reeling with possibilities. Something about the voices were familiar, but he wasn't entirely certain how. |
| Art by Monster |
