[intro] EVERY DOOR A WINDOW

[hauntedxholy]

Kris Dreemurr has had a pretty long day.

The sort of day that people could probably make really weird game demos about. The sort of day that feels like it came out of Aesop and the Grimm brothers' surrogate lovechild's feverdream. Or whatever. Long day. They're tired. Time to yeet a soul.

Or like, that was the plan. As soon as they get home and open the door to their room, they lose their balance on the edge of literally *nothing* and end up falling- falling-- oof. Ok. Not falling anymore.

In a kitchen.

Not their kitchen.

Their skin is its usual color, but they're in their Dark World regalia, which is either a good or a bad sign. There's no one else around, though, and there are a few baskets full of fresh-looking fruit and bread and stuff on the counters.........

Fuck it! Time to raid a pantry.

Comments

[vvykkyd]

Weird kid takes the apple and begins to meander around, poking through cabinets, picking things up and putting them back down, with the air of someone very familiar with doing just that. He picks another apple from a basket on a low table, balancing it on the back of his hand, popping it into the air, catching it, bobbling it between his hands, and finally tucking it into a pocket.

He wishes he knew anyone here. As it is, he's been relatively... withdrawn. He takes a few steps to get closer to Kris, and decide halfway it's too much trouble and just teleports instead, to Kris' shoulder, tapping their shoulder. There's something he's recognized about kids with striped shirts, though, and it's that they share a reality. Or something. Not at all like Billy.


"I don't know them," he signs. "I know there are monsters here."

[hauntedxholy]

They're not expecting the shoulder tap, and they're not expecting him to speak with his hands, which makes the only reason their relief isn't palpable the fact that their expression just...doesn't change much.

"You're not," they sign back. The question comes out more like an accusation without the typical eyebrow raise. Do they even have eyebrows under that mop of hair? Kris hasn't checked lately.

[vvykkyd]

Kris turns to him, and surprisingly, they sign back. He's not used to that. The other Five just took it for granted that he could understand them, and picked a few signs up here and there to understand him.

This is... nice. He nods. "I'm a demon." He points-- little horns, just nubs."I'm Wykkyd. You?"

[hauntedxholy]

"Sweet." They try not to be jealous about the horns. Fail kind of just a little bit. They're successful enough that they can pretend it doesn't matter anyway. "I wish I'd thought of a name that cool. Call me uh, fuck, uh." They pause. Heavy hands make for clumsy signs, but there's not really a way to fix that, right now, and it's not exactly conducive for their particular brand of shittalk. "...Kris."

Wow, they suddenly feel kind of awkward now. What else is new. So they're just gonna....

Start slicing up their apple with their sword. Like, on the counter. It's fine.

" 'm human," they say, switching back to their voice even as they keep Wykkyd in their peripheral. "I think."

[vvykkyd]

Kris. He runs the signs over a few times to himself, happily letting Kris do whatever the hell it is they're doing over at the counter, until he realizes-- oh, the human has a sword.

Humans aren't really supposed to be using swords where he comes from. They're dated and, though they're clearly the superior weapon, far less effective than a gun. Or magic. Or even a really well-thrown rock. Points for style?

Wykkyd disappears, reappearing shortly on the adjacent counter, legs crossed neatly. He puts his chin in his hands, then his hands on his knees, then his hands on the table, rocking back briefly.

"You're human."

Now he feels awkward. That's embarrassing. He could stick around, making even more of a fool of himself, or... he's still kinda hungry. He slides off the counter, sidling over to stand next to Kris, and reaches out to snatch a handful of apple slices. Sword apple slices? God knows what it's touched. He'll probably be fine. Instead of hanging around and being charged with apple thievery, he waves, sticks a slice of apple between his teeth, and disappears.

[hauntedxholy]

"Probably," they mumble. "Maybe part uh, fuckin uh, mothman, or changeling or something, like, I can dream-"

THEIR APPLES.

Sweeping a suspicious glare across the suddenly empty room, they grab a few more apples from another nearby basket, and sullenly continue to chop.

"...Demon stealing an apple." Hm. "L-M-A-O."