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Post by Deleted on Aug 20, 2013 19:00:09 GMT -5
Scarecrow had his hat pulled down almost all of the way when he was at the front gate. His yellow eyes were just barely noticeable under the shade the hate made. Once he had entered the graveyard, he pulled it up to where his eyes and most of his face could be seen. He knew this graveyard okay, but not that well. The first time he came here alone, he got lost. It wasn't a big graveyard but it still had enough land and twists and turns in the path ways to get ya turned around and lost. How long had it been? Too many centuries passed for him to be certain. Coming to a pause in front of a grave stone, he bent down. Placing his hand against it, he rubbed away some of the dirt covering the name. The date of birth and death were still hidden under some dirt, but that didn't matter. He really didn't care about how long ago it was, and no one else knew. Mary Carol
Such was the name on the stone. A good friend of Scarecrow's. A young girl who was really kind, but had a temper that her scary and hard to understand from time to time. Oh well, all that mattered was that she was a good friend.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 2, 2013 4:13:45 GMT -5
“So... how ya’ been girl?” An oddly chipper voice shattered the stoic misery of this holy ground however no words of protest interrupted the visitor’s speech. A black garbed male stood grievingly with irises down cast to the morbid mound endowed with a simple plate that read: Grace Raymond
Loving Wife and Mother Like clockwork, Lennon visited his victims decorated through out these grounds and his final match was his long lost friend’s last connection to the real world. Barry bore the scars of war however Grace was his Angel for a time, trying to mend the wounds left behind and followed the veteran home. However, Lennon destroyed all of that. Now, Grace lay beneath, Barry was on the run for just about everything, and his two lovely children were left to fend for themselves in this cruel world. The Smog occasionally tailed the young women and he had even murdered a suspicious onlooker one night they lost themselves downtown in an effort to find a job. The guilty Lennon dropped off mounds of cash he’d snatched off unsuspected teens looking for some time to kill. He provided the goods and they received their buzz for the night. “Ellie and Emma are good.” He lied, clearly his throat as a distracting lump lurched from the pit of his stomach and almost found itself on the ground near him. Wriggling his gloved hands together while kicking his combat boots out nervously, the strangely clothed Lennon gathered an old pair of sunglasses from the pouch of his onyx trench coat and slid them steadily in front of his glazed eyes. Every day was a battle but it seemed this world’s inhabitants only needed Lennon as a drug dispenser; it was all he knew. Since appearing in this mortal realm, he began his life with no recollection of who he had been before and with abilities he could not fathom. He recalled the first thirst for their poison; it had been a puddle of dried oil dripped on the concrete. He had been starved for so long his instincts just kicked at the very scent of the gasoline. Why was he this way? What being would curse him with such a hunger? “I always wonder Grace if you and the boys ever suspected that I was different...” He muttered, his tone drawl with sorrow. The bouquet of roses nestled in his side coat pocket rustled as he adjusted himself nervously as if expected a response. Lennon was silent for a moment before briskly removing the roses and placing them onto the gravestone, retreating from his true emotions and producing the hedonistic wall he was so famous for. One day Len... Scuffling by while rummaging through this trench coat pocket again the Smog latched his starved finger around a bottle of delicious vodka he’d snatched a few nights from a liquor shop. He had swallowed a sleeping pill before entering and slipped a touch with the cashier before beginning his nighttime nab. It was how Lennon got everything for free really. Taking a quick swig, Lennon captured glances with a hidden stranger who was visiting a lost friend or family member. Nervousness bubbled in the pit and he reacted with a second gulp before tiptoeing an approach. Don’t forget the wall Len.“Greetings mate!” He called, a spirited smile spreading as he approached Scarecrow. He extended his bottle kindly to the mystery man for this was the only way Lennon had ever made ‘friends’ so any other sensible approach was alien to him. “Have some, makes to pain easier to deal with.” |
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Post by Deleted on Sept 2, 2013 8:55:44 GMT -5
Scarecrow was startled to hear a voice and the fact someone was greeting him. Grabbing the sides of his hat, he pulled it down to hide his yellow eyes. Then he looked over at them man. He honestly didn't expect to meet anyone here, but considering it was a graveyard, there'd be other people here. He lowered his hands away from the sides of his hat.
"No thank you. I had alcohol once....I didn't take to it very well." Scarecrow said politely.
It was true. It was around the time when Mary was still alive. Christmas time for that matter...the memory was somewhat faded and blurry. However he could remember Mary convincing him to try some alcoholic drink of the time period. Man was that a bad idea.
There was little doubt that Lennon would be taken by surprise or confused by how thin Scarecrow was. The bony appearance that he had under the old coat of his. Scarecrow couldn't think of much to say nor do. Despite all the time he had been alive, meeting and greeting new people was hard.
"I'm Scarecrow. And you?" Scarecrow started, he fell silent as he waited for Lennon to answer.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 3, 2013 5:10:07 GMT -5
The spirited (and slightly dunce at times) Lennon observed the angular Scarecrow with little alarm; many in his drug-induced company looked similar to the stranger from lack of healthy physical care for all they desired was the needle... nothing else with appease there ever changing appetite. It was never enough for these humans, without Lennon’s help.
When the lean male rejected the Smog’s offer, Lennon shrugged before taking a thirsty swig. “Your loss.” He retorted curtly. As mentioned before, his brash hedonistic attitude was Lennon’s emotional mask that was impossible to remove when around others. Insecurity and lack of proper communication made it difficult for Lennon to properly address ‘normal’ individuals. Street talk got him all the friends he could ask for, so why change now? Also, it made the pain of loosing friend less painful... at least that’s what he convinced himself to be true.
With a carefree smile the Smog responded, displaying a friendly hand. His free hand gulped down another massive amount of the vodka settling inside the glass bottle before he finally finished it. With a reckless thrash, Lennon released the bottle and it plummeted into the nearest headstone however he was particular not to strike his acquaintance or the grave Scarecrow hovered over. “Oops.” He chuckled before realizing he’d forgotten something. “Oh, its Lennon by the way!” Scarecrow, what an odd name?
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Post by Deleted on Sept 3, 2013 10:38:25 GMT -5
Scarecrow raised his hand and shook hands with Lennon. His thin boney hand might feel a bit surprising to Lennon but so far the man wasn't bothered by Scarecrow's thin body. Perhaps this man wouldn't take notice of the boney hand.
"Nice to meet you." Scarecrow said, he then removed his hand. "So...I take it you're visiting someone as well?"
It was the only reason Scarecrow could think of besides having to bury a recent lost one. That and the visiting one would maybe be less painful. Granted Lennon was drinking so either theory would seem possible in anyone's opinion. Others would just lean more to recent lose than visiting.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2013 4:39:43 GMT -5
The angular stranger had now captivated the Smog’s attention as there hands clasped together, revealing unnatural features beneath; even through Lennon’s protective gear he took notice to the protruding bones almost stabbing his palm as they held the shake for a split second. Lennon did not react suddenly but his brain was buzzing with possibilities. This revelation seemed to expose more of Scarecrow with each passing moment; he couldn’t deny Scarecrow did look odd.
However, it seemed that questions like that would be for another time as Scarecrow addressed why Lennon was here. With a deceptive shrug, Lennon continued his carefree charade. “Eh, I guess. Only peaceful place in this town.” Suddenly, the Smog removed another poison from his coat, this time in the shape of a Brazilian cigar, one of the best. With a flick of his lighter, he swallowed hungrily for the toxic smoke. Most would await a large puff of smoke as he inhaled it however he gulped it down, swallowing the charring smoke be exhaling joyous. “Ah, fuck yeah that’s the shit.” What a life he’d trapped himself in. Although this mask got him everything he could ask for as a Smog, he truly was alone no matter how you looked at it.
“What about you mate? Come to chat up the dead?” He muttered.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2013 10:44:39 GMT -5
"I came to visit and keep an old friend company for a little bit." Scarecrow answered as he looked to the old gravestone.
The name was still the only thing on the stone that was visiable, one would have to rub their hand for a while to get the dirt away to reveal the date. Course, that would surprise many since he said he was visiting an old friend. The stone would show the date of centuries passed. The colonial age would pretty much be both the date of birth and death.
OOC: Sorry for it being short.)
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Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2013 16:32:56 GMT -5
“Cool, cool.” He slowly nodded, swallowing another puff of smoke and relishing the exotic taste sizzling his taste buds, causing a chill of pleasure flood his toxic system. With a carefree gesture, Lennon followed his mysterious company’s gaze and ogled noticing the rather unbelievable date on the headstone. Was this dude high? This chick in the ground was... old! Like, exceptionally old. Staring down at the broken glass, he considered the impossibility that maybe he was drunk. No way. You stupid dude?! He rubbed the back of his tousled onyx hair awkwardly, not sure what to say. “Was she you're tail?” He would ignore the date and maybe get some straight answers. The Smog knew there were non-humans in this realm, but apparently that thought didn’t occur to him right now. Oh, simple little Lennon.
He was unsure if this man would understand what exactly he'd met. "You know, you're girl?"
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Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2013 16:57:14 GMT -5
"Tail?" Scarecrow repeated as he cocked his head, upon explanation, he looked back at the gravestone. "We....we were very good friends. Nothing more really."
He was very close to Mary, closer to her more than he had ever been to someone. He didn't understand how Lennon had seen the date. It was covered in so much dirt. He grabbed the sides of his hat and adjusted it, keeping his yellow eyes hidden still.
OOC: Sorry that it's short, I couldn't think of anything)
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Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2013 19:20:46 GMT -5
“Ah yeah sure, that’s what everyone says bro.” He snickered roguishly before turning out his tattered trench coat to search for another tasty treat, the massive cigar still perched between his mischievous lips. He had a serious case to munch on anything and everything at his disposal. As he dug through, he found a small flask which he predicted contained vodka. He wasted no time to find out and traded out his cigar for the tip of the bottle; as he drew the contents closer he received a delicious whiff of gasoline. Delicious. “Ah, that’s the spot.” Hopefully his new acquaintance didn’t have an excelled sense of smell (like Lennon here) because it would be rather awkward to explain.
“You found someone else to take her place? Huh? Huh?” He added curtly with a seemingly permanent smirk.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 5, 2013 19:37:40 GMT -5
Scarecrow looked at Lennon, a unpleased look was on his face but it was hidden by the hat. Mary was the one person he had gotten that close to, they were great and good friends. And yes, they had started to fall for each other. Sadly though time was against them and they couldn't be together.
"No. I wouldn't dare dream of replacing her, nor will I try." Scarecrow said.
There would be no point in trying to find someone like Mary. Mary was rare. The person she was, was rare even in those times. Now and days, it just wasn't existing anymore. It was a dead thing.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 7, 2013 2:52:11 GMT -5
Lennon was oblivious to the pained nerves he’d started in Scarecrow so he spent little time pondering what would be considered proper in such a delicate situation. Perhaps the Smog excelled too well in his art of asshole. “Heh, that’s what we all say brother until the next sweet thing comes strolling by.” With a passionate puff, Lennon had almost finished the enormous cigar in the small time since appearing before Scarecrow. Lennon tended to be ravenous when approaching new company; it was his method of contending with difficulties.
Lennon could never fathom the idea of love; it was alien to any Smog. His species was an outcast no matter where, viewed as toxic omens that only were good at disposing of the waste as well as living in it. Although Lennon couldn’t recall most details outside of his existence in this earthen realm, the agony of rejection and misunderstanding hung heavy on his stone heart.
“So, what’s up with the get up? Ready to settle in the fields and scare... ‘crows’.” He teased with a swig and a final puff before flicking the excess to the ground beneath his black leather combat boot.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 7, 2013 9:33:32 GMT -5
"There is no other sweet thing." Scarecrow answered, it was clear to Scarecrow that Lennon didn't care.
Nothing would convince this being of what Scarecrow felt. Either Lennon was drunk or he was just normally this way, those were the two thoughts in Scarecrow's mind about the current behavior of this being. He had the feeling they weren't human just like he wasn't. But still. Even things not human could still learn compassion.
"Not at all a bad idea, I might just decided to 'go back' to doing that." Scarecrow grabbed his hat and pulled it up, revealing his yellow eyes.
It was times like this that Scarecrow thought about just sticking himself back in a field and hoping the spell would go away. But he doubted it would work. Talzi wasn't a weak witch, she was strong. Her spell wouldn't be broken by him meerly standing in a field pretending to be a normal scarecrow. Once Scarecrow believed Lennon had seen, he lowered the hat again to hide his yellow eyes.
"It was painfully obvious I wasn't normal before right?" referring to the bony hand shake.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 8, 2013 1:04:38 GMT -5
With a careless shrug, Lennon returned to his meal with eyes scrutinizing the gloomy plain of eternal rest. He had buried at least a dozen in this holy ground, all murdered by his dangerous power. He had been blinded so many times by ignorance and peer pressure from his company and now they all rested beneath the earth never to be seen again. The Smog avoided the guilt, masking his troubled emotions with a swig and a impish chuckle to himself. “No sweet thing...” His voice trailed off before shaking his head with a second swallow of his delicious sustenance.
Throwing a stray glance to his grim company, his glowing saucers stunned to Smog who spat the excess liquid like wild rainfall and he hacked and gasped for air. Again, Lennon wasn’t the brightest bulb but he simply couldn’t ignore the facts set up for this moment. Angular form, century old tail, aged get up, and glowing irises like the stars; it was obviously this stranger was not normal. He wiped the droplets tumbling down his stubbled chin in an attempt to clean himself of his ridiculousness. Clearing his throat Lennon responded, embarrassed.
“Y-Yeah, totally I was just testing the waters dude!” He swallowed his drink to hide to horrible lie hovering in his throat. Eyes darting, the Smog worried for his own protection as a non-human. “What, you like Pinocchio, tryin’ to be a real boy or something?” In these realms, everything was possible.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 8, 2013 10:00:40 GMT -5
Scarecrow didn't expect the fountain to escape Lennon. As he waited for the man to get a grip on himself, he just stood there the same way he had before. No intetion of ill doing nor hostility. Course, he doubted he could do much against Lennon. Since he didn't know what Lennon was.
"Sorry. Didn't mean for that to happen." Scarecrow said, referring to Lennon losing his drink. "Talzia was the person who gave me life. A witch. I'm pretty much as real as I can be. I'm not exactly human but....I'll bleed like one and have broken bones as well."
It was true. Save for his other form and features, Scarecrow could pass as a human. Taking notice of Lennon's eyes darting, he knew what that meant. The guy was afraid now.
"Don't worry. Worse I can do is scare ya. All I can really do." Scarecrow answered.
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