Pearson 'Pierce' Langford (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spiritwrangler) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2019-06-14 12:44 pm
spiritwrangler) wrote in middaeg2019-06-14 12:44 pm
June Full Moon Log ☋ OPEN
Who: Pearson Langford, OPEN
When: Evening of June 17th
Where: Anywhere within the city
What: Pierce's denial has lead to a bad reaction to the moons this month. Now his repressed instincts have surged out in full force, and he's looking for something - or someone - to hunt.
Warnings: Body horror and self-harm mentions; possibly some horniness and violence but I'm not planning on full NSFW.
[There's something wrong with his skin.
Pierce has been restlessly pacing the floor in his apartment for most of the day, scratching at his arms and around his eyes until his skin has started to tear. There's a new growth of scales growing underneath, orange and black peeking through under the blood, and seeing that only makes him all the more agitated. He already went through this last month, when the skin around his hips and thighs had started peeling. Pierce had panicked then, too, all efforts to scrape off his new scales in vain once he discovered that they just grew back once they healed up.
Every intention he had of keeping himself locked inside was being drowned out by an overwhelming need to leave, to get out of this (suddenly too-cold) room. Once he realized that he was going to need a lot more bandages, well, having a reason to go outside broke through the last of his good sense. Pierce shrugs on his coat, shoves his hat onto his head, and practically runs out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Without the sunglasses he's been wearing for a month, his pupils look almost completely blown out, the scales growing in around his eyes all too obvious when he stands in the light. It's a good thing, then, that his instincts drive him towards darker streets and alleys where the light from the streetlamps doesn't reach.]
A.
[Pierce never makes it to the pharmacy, like he'd been intending when he first stepped outside. It's not nearly warm enough for him now that the sun's gone down, leaving him huddling in his overcoat as though it were the middle of winter instead of near summer. The amount of walking he was doing helped, but if it weren't for the excessive energy he had right now, he would've been tempted to turn around and go right back home.
There's a part of him that can't stand the idea of going back to his apartment, or going indoors at all. So he keeps walking, through a street lined with market stalls that are just getting packed up now that the last of the sunlight has disappeared on the horizon. One of the booths is littered with various magical trinkets, one in particular catching his eye. It just looks like a plain rock, but it's faintly glowing with a yellow light and Pierce can tell almost immediately that its warm, and that's just what he needs.
While the seller at the booth is distracted with packing his goods back up, Pierce reaches out and snatches the rock, sticking it in his pocket before the owner could notice. That doesn't mean he's being particularly stealthy otherwise, but if you want to stop him you'll need to be quick. Pierce is already walking faster, turning down a nearby side street to put some distance between himself and the scene of the crime.]
B.
[If you're starting to feel like you're being followed, it's not just the late hour playing tricks on your mind.
Pierce has already spent a good hour tracing after strays, and now he's eager for more of a challenge. He's not half bad at this, either - it helps that he dresses like the locals do, and he knows to keep his distance while he's trailing someone, occasionally slinking back between buildings when he thinks his current target might turn around.
There's very little sign of his usual nerves right now. Being the hunter makes him feel damn near invincible, his pulse spiking in anticipation the more he closes the gap between himself and his prey. He waits until the person he's following is near the mouth of a dark alley before stepping in closer, the brim of his hat pulled low and casting a shadow over his eyes, and a smile on his lips.]
'Scuse me, friend. There's a small matter I was hopin' you could help me with.
C. WILDCARD if you have another scenario in mind!
When: Evening of June 17th
Where: Anywhere within the city
What: Pierce's denial has lead to a bad reaction to the moons this month. Now his repressed instincts have surged out in full force, and he's looking for something - or someone - to hunt.
Warnings: Body horror and self-harm mentions; possibly some horniness and violence but I'm not planning on full NSFW.
[There's something wrong with his skin.
Pierce has been restlessly pacing the floor in his apartment for most of the day, scratching at his arms and around his eyes until his skin has started to tear. There's a new growth of scales growing underneath, orange and black peeking through under the blood, and seeing that only makes him all the more agitated. He already went through this last month, when the skin around his hips and thighs had started peeling. Pierce had panicked then, too, all efforts to scrape off his new scales in vain once he discovered that they just grew back once they healed up.
Every intention he had of keeping himself locked inside was being drowned out by an overwhelming need to leave, to get out of this (suddenly too-cold) room. Once he realized that he was going to need a lot more bandages, well, having a reason to go outside broke through the last of his good sense. Pierce shrugs on his coat, shoves his hat onto his head, and practically runs out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Without the sunglasses he's been wearing for a month, his pupils look almost completely blown out, the scales growing in around his eyes all too obvious when he stands in the light. It's a good thing, then, that his instincts drive him towards darker streets and alleys where the light from the streetlamps doesn't reach.]
A.
[Pierce never makes it to the pharmacy, like he'd been intending when he first stepped outside. It's not nearly warm enough for him now that the sun's gone down, leaving him huddling in his overcoat as though it were the middle of winter instead of near summer. The amount of walking he was doing helped, but if it weren't for the excessive energy he had right now, he would've been tempted to turn around and go right back home.
There's a part of him that can't stand the idea of going back to his apartment, or going indoors at all. So he keeps walking, through a street lined with market stalls that are just getting packed up now that the last of the sunlight has disappeared on the horizon. One of the booths is littered with various magical trinkets, one in particular catching his eye. It just looks like a plain rock, but it's faintly glowing with a yellow light and Pierce can tell almost immediately that its warm, and that's just what he needs.
While the seller at the booth is distracted with packing his goods back up, Pierce reaches out and snatches the rock, sticking it in his pocket before the owner could notice. That doesn't mean he's being particularly stealthy otherwise, but if you want to stop him you'll need to be quick. Pierce is already walking faster, turning down a nearby side street to put some distance between himself and the scene of the crime.]
B.
[If you're starting to feel like you're being followed, it's not just the late hour playing tricks on your mind.
Pierce has already spent a good hour tracing after strays, and now he's eager for more of a challenge. He's not half bad at this, either - it helps that he dresses like the locals do, and he knows to keep his distance while he's trailing someone, occasionally slinking back between buildings when he thinks his current target might turn around.
There's very little sign of his usual nerves right now. Being the hunter makes him feel damn near invincible, his pulse spiking in anticipation the more he closes the gap between himself and his prey. He waits until the person he's following is near the mouth of a dark alley before stepping in closer, the brim of his hat pulled low and casting a shadow over his eyes, and a smile on his lips.]
'Scuse me, friend. There's a small matter I was hopin' you could help me with.
C. WILDCARD if you have another scenario in mind!
B
[America is obviously suspicious as Pierce approaches--he can't really tell who's under that low-brimmed hat, after all, and it's pretty late. But when he hears the accent, and it's American, he loosens up. The voice sounds familiar aside from accent, too, though the circumstances mean America isn't totally sure about that.
Still, even though America is clearly friendly, there's just a little bit of tenseness that doesn't go away--not being able to see this guy's face properly is still setting him just that little bit on edge, full moon aside.]
Sure, what's up?
no subject
But knowing that does give him an idea.]
You're the one that's good with all these strange glowin' things, aren't you? [Pierce reaches into his coat to unhook his enchanted pocketwatch, lifting it up by the chain.] I'm, uh, havin' trouble gettin' mine to work right. I'm not too sure if it's busted or not.
[That was a complete lie. There's nothing wrong with it at all, but Pierce is hoping it'll be enough to lure him in closer.]
no subject
no subject
But even if America is keeping some distance, Pierce doesn't seem eager to do that. He's trying to sidle in closer, using looking over his arm at the device as an excuse. His fangs are already extending forward in anticipation.]
no subject
Sorry, uh--is it not turning on at all, or...? [The first thing he does is try the power on the device, of course.]