Dance with the Devil [Seasonal Event]

RexannA your battle-worn tongue doesn't say the truth anymore that you are ruined Rexanna had found the presence of Archibold rather intriguing. Obviously, she had done something well by meeting this “monster” though she had yet to actually see what type he was. He had explained it to her, but there was a difference between hearing what someone had to say and actually seeing it first hand – though Rexanna wasn’t particularly interested in seeing it first-hand. Instead, she willfully accepted Archibold’s offer, finding the company of him to be particularly nice, in the way where she didn’t have to explain herself or her situations, or previous lives and alternate universes. So also didn’t seem to have to worry about destroying him like she had with Remi and their encounter with that unique god. She probably didn’t need to blame herself for it, but Rexanna was great at it, and had spent a great while doing so. She was thinking about it when Archibold’s voice reached her as he inspected the bridge, her sapphire gaze gleaning over the nooks and crannies of the odd porous bridge – noting the moonlight as it soaked and changed the hue to a blueish grey from what she was certain was probably a more menacing tan color like bone. She moved closer to him to stand by his side and offered him a small smile and a nod to his compliment – taking it as such for the fact that she remained standing and he had invited her for company again. “I’m glad to have changed your mind.” She offered the man with a small wink and half-whispered laugh. She allowed him to talk, however, her mind falling back to the bones around them and the god encounter with Remi until he poised a question to her. For a moment, there was a slight look of shock along her face before she laughed somewhat nervously as she adjusted her shirt in a slight nervous twitch. “Gods no. I much prefer the idea of not being hunted every second of every day.” She answered, hands falling from her shirt as if she could feel phantom bindings along her wrists. “I was on the run for… a couple of years. It doesn’t do well for the body, mind, or soul.” She offered as a bit of information, wondering if he’d remember the brand she sported on her collarbone. Suddenly, however, chatting began to fill the area – a strange sound that reminisced of a bird but yet, not quite. Her eyes slipped from Archibold to the rest of the bridge behind him to see the pumpkins beginning their ascent to meet them in the middle. “What the hell are those?” She breathed, looking to Archibold to see if he had any explanation – he was her guide after all. Then, curiously, she picked up a fist sized rock and lunged it at the group of pumpkins. She didn’t particularly want to hit them, but she did want to try and scare them away. AND YOU WONDER WHY HE LETS YOU — THE BUTCHER TOUCH HIM — THE SUN

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