middaeg | June Full Moon Log ☋ OPEN

Entry tags:

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!

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Paris usually gets up early in the morning, even before he got a job here. Bakers tend to rise early in order to get started on anything, after all. He was heading to the beach to get a quick swim in before he went into work, which means it's far before dawn, when he hears a voice coming from the alley. It sounds... familiar. Probably someone he met early on in being here?

Aeto lingers by his ankles, chirping at the man- she recognizes him a little bit better, but something seems... off. Paris doesn't notice, just blinking at him before giving him a little nod.] Um.... alright. What is it...?

Pierce doesn't answer at first, feeling a sour twist in his gut once he gets a good look at the face of his 'prey'. He hadn't even been thinking about who it was he'd been stalking, his tunnel vision gone so bad that he had hardly given Aeto much notice.

He swallows hard before speaking up, his voice gone rough. "Paris? Never you mind that, what in tarnation are you doin' out here at this hour? It's not safe." It wasn't safe because he was out here. There's a part of him that's still pleased that he managed to approach the young man without getting caught in the process, but Pierce also has no idea what he'd intended on doing after catching him, and that's the part that scares him.

"Oh! Hello, Pierce." The opposite of the man's reaction, Paris is quite pleased to see him. Even if he's clearly a bit confused by the question. "Um, I was going to go swim before I went to work. I work at the bakery, so it starts very early..."

As for why the swim before then, it should be fairly obvious- there's gills at Paris's neck and scaling on his webbed hands, and it looks like his ears are beginning to morph into something more fish-like as well. It doesn't seem to bother him in the slightest, but he still needs to be in the water a lot.

((change reference))

[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?

Pierce pushes the brim of his hat up just a little, to get a better look at Paris, and what he sees makes his expression go a fair bit more solemn. Damn, was there no one this curse wouldn't touch? He's seen other people talking via the watches about the changes they were going through, but none of them were taking it nearly as serious as they should be, in his opinion.

"It still don't strike me as a good idea to be goin' places when you don't know who might be lurkin' around in the dark. Let me at least walk you over there, to put my mind at ease." There's another irrational instinct bubbling up that Pierce doesn't want to put a voice to. This was his prey; he'd gotten here first and he didn't much like the idea of anyone else nabbing the younger man away. Just the idea of it made his fangs extend forward, ones that he hadn't had yesterday.

Aeto can tell that something is up, less because of the changes Pierce is going through and more because of how he reacts to it. She chirps at him again, this time a questioning tone- is he feeling ok?

Paris remains oblivious. "You don't have to, but... if it would make you feel better..." Also, it's just nice to have people around. He's adapted very well to small groups, and he likes Pierce. He'll start walking, leading the way to the beach he likes to swim at. "What are you doing out, then?"

[Pierce hadn't recognized him from a distance either, with those wings and horns, but now that he's much closer it's with a jolt of surprise that he remembers where they met. This was that young man that had the glowing slab of metal and claimed it was some kind of technology. And here Pierce had thought he'd been following a local monster, not one of the unlucky few to have ended up here.

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.]

Oh, yeah sure! [America does step closer, though not close enough to invade Pierce's personal space or anything.] The tech's pretty weird here compared to back home, with all the weird magic stuff, but I can check it out!

[Justine is dressed in a dark outfit of her own making, adorned with leather and a simple golden locket looped around her throat. Her lovely dark hair hangs over her shoulders and frames her pretty face while her heels click softly on the cobbled streets. There is a single short blade along her thigh that's invisible except for the gleaming silver hilt that rests just below her hip.

A prickling sensation touches her skin as his eyes stare into the back of her slender form. Justine is accustomed to being approached as prey and while she can't hear or see him, she feels the lust and excitement of the hunt.

Her steps come to a halt and she turns sharply as Pierce exists the dark alley. She'd met him once, they'd shared food and because of that her guard briefly drops.]

Help you with? What's that?

[Her voice is sweet but cautious.

She tries to sound confident but once again she's a lost little lamb among wolves.]

[Newt was perceptive about his surroundings. It came in handy for when he was looking for more elusive creatures, but also because Pierce wouldn't be the first person to stalk him. He's dealt with enough traffickers and poachers alongside other unsavory sorts that being followed was something he could pick up on easily.

He never really turns to look out for the other. Although, the way that Newt always held himself; it was always hard to tell. He always sometimes kept his head tilted to the side and his gait was a bit odd at the best of times.

The magizoologist was aware of the other. He didn't know it was Pierce following him, but he was very much aware that they were following him. It was like a game of cat and mouse. Newt was waiting for the other to act.

He's a little tense when Pierce approaches him. Confused when he recognizes them. He keeps himself small and he has his hand close to where his wand is tucked away. He purses his lips for a moment before-] What do you need? You know you could have asked without having to follow me.

Pierce casts a glance over at Aeto, but he doesn't know near enough about critters like her to even guess at why she's making all that noise. She seemed to recognize him, at least, which was probably a good thing.

"Couldn't sleep," he says as he falls into step next to Paris, producing his cigarette tin and a book of matches out of one pocket. Pierce's hands are shaking as he lights one up and takes a long drag, counting on the tobacco to at least marginally soothe his nerves. "Last month weren't as bad as this. I felt like I might crawl outta my own skin if I had to stay inside."

Paris hums, nodding as he walks alongside Pierce. "Oh. I hope you'll be able to rest better soon... I-I know if it's because of the moons it might not help, but there are some teas and things I know how to make that are good for sleeping." He did spend much of the evening already swimming and is going back to do it again before attempting to work, so it's not like the moons don't have a pull over him, but being more at peace with his changes helps the urges not... overtake him.

I'd be mighty grateful, [Pierce says as he extends the pocketwatch to him, handing it over without hesitation.

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.]

[Now, America is a guy with hundreds of years of military experience and some well-honed danger instincts. He's also kind of an idiot with a huge soft spot for his own citizens. So, as he pokes at the device to try to get it open, he ends up turning suddenly to look at Pierce--but he just seems kind of baffled about why he even did it.]

Sorry, uh--is it not turning on at all, or...? [The first thing he does is try the power on the device, of course.]

[If he weren't so focused on his instinct-fueled hunt, Pierce would've been far more flabbergasted by her outfit, which went against most of his old-fashioned social mores. The very fact that his need to find prey had left him dismissing her clothing as unimportant was a pretty good sign of how far gone the moon had left him.]

Well now, I remember you from that terrible night we all ended up here. Why're you out here on the streets so late? It can't be too safe for a lady at this time of night.

[Pierce isn't even bothering to answer her question, stepping in closer to her instead, knowing that she'd be warm and irresistibly drawn to it.]

[His lips quirk into a smile when he takes in how hunched in the other man is, some part of him enjoying the cornered look of his prey. On one level he knows that this is already getting bad, but Newt usually has a meek look about him and that's just fueling Pierce's instincts all the worse right now.]

Just havin' a little fun is all. You don't need to be sour about it.

[If he's bothered by having not been as stealthy as he would've liked, Pierce gives no indication of it. He starts slowly step in closer to Newt, watching him intently from under the brim of his hat.]

Somethin's been on my mind lately. I never got a chance to ask you about it before, but - since I found you out here, now's as good as time as any.

[Newt furrows his brows a bit.]

It would certainly be a little less nerve wracking if I were aware that you were merely doing it out of enjoyment in the first place. [It really wouldn't though. He can't see why the other would want to stalk him as they had. It was certainly suspicious.

He takes a step back when Pierce takes a step forward. It's more of an unconscious action. Newt was never too fond of anyone being in his personal space. That hasn't changed since his arrival here.]

Is that so? [He tilts his head curiously.] Well, you're free to ask now. I'm not in a rush to be anywhere at the moment. What was on your mind?

[Pierce pauses when he realizes that Newt is backing away from him, but it also makes him smile wider, flashes of his fangs more visible now as he speaks.]

I was wonderin' if you've read any Walt Whitman. I know you're from across the pond, but you struck me as bein' the type who would enjoy it.

[It might seem odd to bring up literature at a time like this, but Pierce had reasons that were only partially down to distracting him. He starts walking again, slowly - not directly towards Newt, but starting to slowly circle around him, as if looking for an opening physically if his words didn't land.]

Of course, he wrote for the workin' man. You might be of a mind for somethin' more... decadent. Like Oscar Wilde?

[Ah. He hadn't really thought about what others might be. It had never bothered him whether someone was a monster or a witch, so he never thought to ever ask others. It really wasn't his business if they didn't want to talk about it anyways. The fangs though were more than enough or him to think that those aren't something he had before arriving to Aefenglom.]

Walt Whitman? I'm afraid I'm not quite learned in muggle literature from America. My knowledge of the States are fairly limited still.

[Newt doesn't exactly keep looking at the other, but Pierce can figure out quickly that he doesn't ever have his back to the other. Either as precaution or because it simply was just rude not to face the other while talking to them.]

I am familiar with Oscar Wilde, but you could say I was always more academic with what I consumed.

[He steps forward and Justine feels the heat of his presence as it brushes against her skin. She isn't wearing much and the dark fabric while beautiful is thin to compliment the warming notes of summer. It doesn't offer much protection and in the soft gleam of his gaze, she feels naked and exposed.]

I remember. [Justine whispers her reply, feeling a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold snake down her spine.] I was walking. I'll be fine on my own.

[She takes a small step back and finds the cool touch of stone behind her.]

You didn't answer my question.

"I'll try just about anythin' at this point," Pierce mutters. He scratches at his wrist as they walk, his shedding skin itching enough to be a distraction. "I used to keep cannabis around, but it turns out that stuff is somethin' of a rare commodity here. I just flat out can't afford it."

It just figured that it'd be hard for Pierce to get his hands on it right when he needs it the most. His nerves were bad enough as it is without being in a city full of monsters.

[It's obvious to him now that Newt hadn't picked up on what he'd really meant, as clear as Pierce had thought it was. He could be more obvious, if he had to. Pierce clicks his tongue,] Now that's a same. I think I remember parts of a few of Whitman's works...

"His nostrils dilate as my heels embrace him,
His well-built limbs tremble with pleasure as we race around and return..."

[And if reciting the start of an obviously questionable poem isn't enough, he reaches out to make a grab at Newt's upper arm. Pierce had meant just to touch him, at first, but the other man's inability to stay in one spot was starting to make him awfully frustrated.]

"Mm. I'm sorry. If, um. If you like I can try and make you some of that tea and bring it around tonight or tomorrow...?" He's pretty sure he's seen what goes in it around here- he might even able to find something close enough to it in the store that he could recommend to Pierce. Unfortunately, he doesn't have much else in the way of ideas on how to help.

[Newt only really has a moment to mull over those words. Something about it felt rather off. He didn't have any context to the full piece, nor what it possibly meant. It sounded less about a person and more about an animal.

Why was the other quoting such lines?

He doesn't really get much time to consider answers to his question because he tucks his arm towards his chest and away from the other quickly when the other reaches out. He had always been kind of uncomfortable with physical interaction usually. For the other to reach out like that-] I-I'm not- What are you doing?

What exactly is it you actually want?

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June Full Moon Log ☋ OPEN

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