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 Posted: Fri Mar 30, 2012 7:58 pm
Dakota blinked before sighing. Man he didn't even want to think about dating with Chama in his brain.
He sighed again.
Look at them, they were the sighing pair of hunters. Forever sighing. Always sighing.
"I don't think I'd blame you or encourage you to swim the waters around the Island either." He tucked his hands into his jacket before grinning, "Its not like we get enough sun anyways for the Island to be a respectable beach. We don't even get to see babes in their skimps." He shrugged.
As they entered the church, and Dakota shouted his piece, he raised an eyebrow at Jordan before nodding. "Right, I guess we should be wary..." He followed after the older moon hunter and looked around.
What was it about church that gave eerie feelings? Sometimes he wondered if there was really a god, watching and judging them as they did what they did. Did god support the humans? Or the creatures of Halloween?
"Man it is creepy in here..." Dakota whispered and stuck as close as humanly possible to the sun hunter. "I hate silence." A fact well known by him talking...constantly.
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prolixity rolled 1 100-sided dice:
34
Total: 34 (1-100)
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Posted: Sat Mar 31, 2012 8:48 am
Jordan laughed quietly. "One-track mind much, dude?" he asked.
The door in the back of the church was unlocked, thankfully, and he stepped out into the day again, bright sun and cold air hitting him like a slap. He paused to let his eyes adjust and to do a quick survey of the area; if there were anyone here, they'd have to be careful and discreet. He saw nobody, though, neither caretakers nor mourners, only the greys and blacks of the headstones poking up through patchy snow. "Must stay a little warmer back here," he commented.
He'd half expected the memories of his family's funerals to wash back over him, but he felt only a kind of quiet sorrow; this place was different from the cemetery that held the Miller family plot, and the stark winter colors and antique headstones were almost peaceful. For the first time, in spite of the disturbances that had come to this place, he understood why graveyards could soothe the living.
He picked his way carefully around the headstones to one of the gaping holes in the earth where a grave had been opened; it was marked off by pegs and string and a band of caution tape. The headstone still stood, though it leaned at an odd, drunken angle. Jordan leaned over to get a better look at it. Something was odd about the marker; he frowned, studying it, and realized suddenly what the anomaly was. "Look," he pointed out. "There's no death date marked on this one."
Several other desecrated lots were nearby, similarly marked off; he checked the headstones, and found the same odd omission on each one. "None of these have date of death."
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