kore_logs | ( open log ) who's that creepin in the shadows

WHO: Conrad Achenleck and YOU!
WHAT: Scoping out the town, now that it's dark outside.
WHEN: Day 46, nighttime.
WHERE: ERRYWHERE
WARNINGS: Conrad's mouth, will be updated if necessary.

It's been a really, really long day-slash-night-slash-day. Between Hanna's crazy "let's just walk straight into danger" plan, getting attacked by Robocop the Vampire Slayer, waking up in somebody's attic and getting cornered into telling strangers about his condition, Conrad feels like he's going to drop. Not that he can physically feel tired, but mentally, it's a lot to take in at such a nonstop pace. On top of all that, waiting in that unfurnished, dusty attic for the sun to go down without anything to do to occupy himself has been torture.

The sun does go down eventually, though, and as soon as it does, Conrad's headache seems to lessen. He creeps downstairs - not investigating the house too fully, lest he run into his broom-zealous buddy again - and quickly checks out the kitchen and living room - ugh, so not a fan of the basic decor - before heading outside and getting hit with the smell of sea air. Yyyyikes.

He'll be spending the evening like this: hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched up even though he's not cold, wandering the streets and investigating public buildings, maybe talking to himself a little. It distracts from his hunger, anyway; as usual, his sense of smell has amped up - as if he needs help finding food, ugh - but he's saving that last bit of blood until he's found a replacement. Logical action, Conrad.

He's also looking for any sign of a way out, but, well. That's a given.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The fuck is he-- oh. Right. The ugly-ass statue. It's pretty distracting or whatever, but not that distracting. Ghoul raises an eyebrow, mumbling around the cigarette, "You transfixed by the stone siren, or what? You know there's real girls around here, right?"

Snapping out of his mental art criticism, Conrad jumps (and possibly squeaks a little), head whipping around to the source of the -- oh. Conrad stops walking, staying a comfortable distance from Ghoul, and peers at him. It's that guy, the first one. The creepier one.

"H--what, no, I was just... I don't know if admiring is quite the right word." It really isn't. This statue is ugly as hell. "... Looking critically at it? -- What do you want?"

"Why's everyone always gotta want somethin' from you? What happened to the art of conversation?" Did he just-- yes, he totally just waggled his eyebrows. Conrad amuses and interests him, and he's been bored for quite some time.

"Just a nice night for a stroll, man. Don't mean nothin' by it."

Conrad uncomfortably looks away from Ghoul and back up at the statue. It's like a trainwreck.

"I guess it is." It seems like it's a little cold out, but he can't tell. Conrad starts strolling around the fountain, slowly, peering at the sculpture. "This fountain stinks. -- Not just the Silent Hill siren, like literally stinks. Eugh."

Ghoul smirks. He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, flicking ash into the water, and then he grins proper. "Probably because they just fished a body outta there not too long ago. Wouldn't stand too close, if I were you. Hasn't been sanitized."

And just how can you smell that, Conrad? The stench went with the body.... Or so he thought.

"You smell the rot, sunshine? That's some nose you got."

Shit. "What, you can't smell that?" Like he can wave it off, right? Like he did with Laura. That went so well. He eyes the water warily.

"A body, though? What happened?"

"Nope." That grin isn't going anywhere. How interesting.

He does have enough sense to sober a bit at all this corpse talk. After his talk with Jet, it would just be a dick move to speak ill of the dead. Even if he didn't know the chick.

"One of my boys and a young lady found her floating in the fountain, the way I heard it. She was long-dead. Dumped there. Probably to get us suspicious of each other. Our jailers have a sick sense of humour, and this was obviously a murder. Just don't know who done it."

"Th-that's disgusting!" Conrad takes a step back from the fountain, as if he'll get some kind of disease from it if any of it splashes on him. Can vampires get diseases? He doesn't know, but he still doesn't want that contaminated shit anywhere on him.

"So we're not just stuck in Little fucking Town on the Seaside, but we're stuck with murderers? Fantastic!"

"Stuck with all sortsa things." He gives Conrad a pointed look while taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Don't be scared, Snow White, I'll save your dainty hide from the big, bad wolves."

Ghoul winks before tilting his head up and blowing smoke to the sky. He may or may not be just messing with Conrad. Gradually pushing him towards the edge just to see what'll happen. He does this a lot. But he also may have meant it. It's hard to tell at this stage, especially with the way he's chuckling under his breath.

Conrad eyes Ghoul, discomfort growing. He hates being messed with, and he hates people acting like they have the upper hand - even if they do! - so this whole situation is making him squirm.

"Hey, can you, you know, not?" Rolling his eyes, his gaze falls back on the chuckling weirdo. "Is there something you want to say about me?"

"Not unless there's somethin' you wanna get off your chest. You remember what I said earlier? About goin' it alone?" Okay, so he's pressing. He said he didn't need to know, but Anna's secret is infuriating enough without this practically-finished puzzle sitting right in front of him. All he needs to do is shove in those last few pieces and bam. He'd know.

Yeah, it's hypocritical as fuck. Yeah, he's kickin' himself for it internally. Yeah... he should back the fuck off. Ghoul shakes his head, holding a hand up in the air. Stop, just stop everything. "I take it back. You smoke?" A much easier question. He's not sure what he should expect by way of an answer.

This is fucking frustrating. He does remember, but if this guy thinks something is up and keeps fucking hinting at it, what's the point? He's probably right, anyway, since he knows about the crack in the ceiling and the fact that the light hurt him in some way. Then there's the smelling thing, and the going outside thing, so everything in Conrad's mind just says 'fuck it' in one hurried, anxious flip of a mental table.

"No." Conrad says, with an exaggerated scoff and a roll of his eyes. "Not that I'm worried about dying of fucking lung cancer, 'cos guess what? I'm already dead!" He throws his hands up. "But you probably guessed that, didn't you? Since you've probably also sussed out that I'm a vampire, hence the wink wink, nudge fucking nudge -- mmngh, what's the deal, do I have to say it?! Vampire, I'm a vampire, and no, I absolutely do not want to bite you, or anyone, don't fucking ask, so help me god!"

Well. There's that.

He took it back, man. He took it back! You can't just drop a bomb like that on a guy after he takes it the fuck back! Ghoul just stares, completely caught off-guard, and the cigarette actually falls out of his mouth. Give him a sec. Recovery time. Get the crash cart, stat.

There's a vampire standing in front of him. A real life, genuine, motherfuckin' vampire.

Slowly, veeeeery slowly, the smile returns. Small at first, definitely awed, then it's back to a full blown grin.

"No shit. For real? I fuckin' knew it. That's great, man! That's just ... holy shit, that's--." Probably not as fun as it seems, the way Conrad's freaking the hell out. But then again, he seems the kinda guy that freaks out no matter what's going on. Ghoul lowers his hand, holding it between them. A peace offering. Shake on it. That's all he wanted to know. If Conrad had been faking that weird shit, it'd be a completely different story.

"Didn't mean t'set you off like that."

"That's great?!" It's not awful, but it's definitely not great! Maybe he wouldn't be getting so defensive if he were in a different situation -- he doesn't know, because this guy is bugging the crap out of him, anyway.

"Auuugh." Conrad turns on his heel and almost sits down on the edge of the fountain before he remembers that there was just a body in there. The moment of movement gives him time to cool down a little, though, so when he turns again, he puts his hands on his hips and looks down. Then, finally, he hesitantly reaches out to shake that hand. Loosely.

"Yeah."

( open log ) who's that creepin in the shadows

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject