[original] [Silas, Myrna] Sinking & Descent
Title: Sinking & Descent
Subject: Original | Silas, Myrna
Rating: PG
Summary: Silas wakes up to the flash of LED lights over his skin, red, red, blue, red, selling booze or cigarettes or sex or maybe all three at once.
Notes: For the prompt the morning after and also ridiculously inspired by ALL OF IAMX's music ever. Idek tbh. New characters. A vampire and a demon whoop whoop?
Silas wakes up to the flash of LED lights over his skin, red, red, blue, red, selling booze or cigarettes or sex or maybe all three at once. The room stinks of sweat and sex and mold, but he can't place it, can't remember where he is or who he came with. His phone is on the bedside table though, flashing a message from Myrna at him. It's set to silent.
He doesn't reply to it, just scrabbles for his jeans on the floor, his shirt almost beneath the bed, shoes by the door. His wallet's still in his pocket, money and debit card still there too. It's a start, at least. He'll be able to get back across town.
The flat is tiny, the bedroom squashed between the open kitchen, another room. It's empty, thankfully, no awkward conversation to navigate. By the door, there's a letter addressed to a Keiran Brynn, another to a Mr. K. Brynn. There's a couple of notes too, a tenner, maybe a fiver beneath that and for a moment, Silas' hand hovers over it, fingers brush the edge of the paper before he snatches his hand back, thinks of the money still in his wallet.
It's raining outside, just barely drizzling but enough that there's no moonlight, the backstreets Silas takes too dark for most people to see in. He wends his way through them, following his senses more than knowing where he is, walks past homeless people, couples pushed together in the shadows behind bars, a fight or two before he's back on the right side of town, the slums to some but home to him.
Myrna is waiting for him in the hallway of their house, dark eyed, arms crossed over her chest. She doesn't say anything as he pushes past but her eyes flash, dark, light, back to dark and she lets him go. He feels her eyes on his back as he trips up the stairs, doesn't miss the gentle tendril of black smoke that follows him, lingers when he shuts the door behind him.
"I came back," he says, to a room that should be empty. "I came back."
Subject: Original | Silas, Myrna
Rating: PG
Summary: Silas wakes up to the flash of LED lights over his skin, red, red, blue, red, selling booze or cigarettes or sex or maybe all three at once.
Notes: For the prompt the morning after and also ridiculously inspired by ALL OF IAMX's music ever. Idek tbh. New characters. A vampire and a demon whoop whoop?
Silas wakes up to the flash of LED lights over his skin, red, red, blue, red, selling booze or cigarettes or sex or maybe all three at once. The room stinks of sweat and sex and mold, but he can't place it, can't remember where he is or who he came with. His phone is on the bedside table though, flashing a message from Myrna at him. It's set to silent.
He doesn't reply to it, just scrabbles for his jeans on the floor, his shirt almost beneath the bed, shoes by the door. His wallet's still in his pocket, money and debit card still there too. It's a start, at least. He'll be able to get back across town.
The flat is tiny, the bedroom squashed between the open kitchen, another room. It's empty, thankfully, no awkward conversation to navigate. By the door, there's a letter addressed to a Keiran Brynn, another to a Mr. K. Brynn. There's a couple of notes too, a tenner, maybe a fiver beneath that and for a moment, Silas' hand hovers over it, fingers brush the edge of the paper before he snatches his hand back, thinks of the money still in his wallet.
It's raining outside, just barely drizzling but enough that there's no moonlight, the backstreets Silas takes too dark for most people to see in. He wends his way through them, following his senses more than knowing where he is, walks past homeless people, couples pushed together in the shadows behind bars, a fight or two before he's back on the right side of town, the slums to some but home to him.
Myrna is waiting for him in the hallway of their house, dark eyed, arms crossed over her chest. She doesn't say anything as he pushes past but her eyes flash, dark, light, back to dark and she lets him go. He feels her eyes on his back as he trips up the stairs, doesn't miss the gentle tendril of black smoke that follows him, lingers when he shuts the door behind him.
"I came back," he says, to a room that should be empty. "I came back."