This dark little hole is my page where you may feel free to ask questions or offer to rp with my muse, Hallow-Eve. enjoy the creepy crawlies, the gaunt watching eyes that never tire in staring, my random conniptions, and whatever else you find slithering through this humble hovel of mine.

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Sleep was a loose term here, it was more a comatose-like state to preserve energy. Hunter just liked to do it a lot. Though the sudden wake up in his new friend managed to knock him out of it. It took a bit, but his mind kicked back in gear and he loosened his grip on his pillow and slowly managed to wake himself up.

Hunter looked up once his mind was back in order, sniffing to remember where he was, his nose wrinkled at the bleach smell. Now he remembered, the safe room, first time he’s been in one without mauling survivors. Then finally reaching his ears was Hallow’s breath, that didn’t sound normal, Hunter looked in the direction of the sound.

"Hმllօω օƙმყ?"

Hallow watched him wake, like a corpse coming back to life all over again. Her breath was still shaky, heart slamming in her chest, but slowly beginning to rest. 

His question forced a smile from her, not that he’d notice. Letting a soft laugh course from a breath through her nose, the psychopomp let a hand rest on his arm to assure him. “I’m okay,” she promised, though she wasn’t just lying to him. 

She glanced up and saw through the bars that it was nighttime at last. Gathering herself up she stretched, standing tall as her back cracked. Already she felt refreshed, magic rushing through her veins again, energized and charged up for another evening in the city. She could feel it. Her scythe could be summoned at last if needed. Though the more and more she saw of this place, the more she realized help would be needed. 

"Where else did a lot of people die?" she asked the zombie, crouching down in front of him comfortably. she was now doing a sweep, assessing how much work exactly needed to be done with this post apocalyptic dump. 

Reblogged from conductorofstorms  40 notes

Shanghaied // Closed with Conductorofstorms


Thunder hardly heard anything Hallow was saying. Her eyes were still fixed on the port side, but something was there. A denseness had come upon the fog that lay between them and relative safety. In a flash Thunder was running up the stairs to the helm, swiping her spyglass and looking out. It seemed to only lay ahead of them; a head-on attack? How brazen, though that would be the slaugh for you. Before Thunder could sound the alarm though, the fog seemed to split and peel away from them. 

"Alas, we’ve hit land." She said with relief as the otherworld territory came into view. The ride there was shorter than expected, so Thunder kept watch for anything unusual. She didn’t know what horrors lay within the unknown boundaries. "Thank goodness too, because I’d never have let you steer my ship." She said to Hallow before ringing the bell to notify the crew.

Hallow let her words drop when the captain blatantly ignored her, deflating a little. All pointless. Great, now she was convinced they’d be chum for the damned dead. How ironic, in her case. Though seeing Thunder take out her spyglass, the psychopomp looked out in the same direction with a small pit of dread in her stomach. Was it the Sluagh coming head-on? Something worse? 

At the statement of land Hallow visibly eased, letting herself breathe again. Oh good, so she didn’t need to demonstrate how useless she was in her weakened and naked state. For once she had some luck for the day. 

At Thunder’s crack about Hallow steering the ship, she turned to the captain with a slight grin. “Fair enough,” she said, agreeing to herself that steering a giant boat wasn’t her strongest talent. “But how about some clothes? Surely you won’t make me trod on unknown territory naked..”