Ronin
welcome to the playground, follow me
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
tell me your nightmares and fantasies
"Yeah, this is a little different to a stroll through the woods or being out on the docks," Ronin agrees. Even going to a bar isn't this, and besides, they've usually been out for a few hours before the wendigo needs to be social. Not so today. Heading up the stairs, their footsteps echo on the concrete steps, and soon enough the door to the third floor is before them.
"Hey, same here." He scoffs. "But you don't eat to leave dirty dishes around, and unless you secretly practice drums or the saxophone at night, I think we'll be good." As for Ronin, "I'll do my best not to slip and crack my head open, or cut my fingers off when I'm cooking. I feel like that's a bit too much for a trial period.
The hunter opens the door out onto a quiet and empty corridor. This has been wisely carpeted in a deep maroon colour - all the better to hide any dirt or bloodstains, my dear. Ronin walks them along the hallway, past rows of numbered apartments, until they reach 17. Remi won't need to worry about memorising the number, though - he'll know it's Ronin's place by the heavy iron horseshoe that's been nailed above the door, fixed firmly in place.
"Home sweet home," he drawls, fishing the keys from his pockets and unlocking the (multiple) bolts and catches. "Wait here a second?" he asks. "I've got to take the silver away from the threshold to let you in."
"Hey, same here." He scoffs. "But you don't eat to leave dirty dishes around, and unless you secretly practice drums or the saxophone at night, I think we'll be good." As for Ronin, "I'll do my best not to slip and crack my head open, or cut my fingers off when I'm cooking. I feel like that's a bit too much for a trial period.
The hunter opens the door out onto a quiet and empty corridor. This has been wisely carpeted in a deep maroon colour - all the better to hide any dirt or bloodstains, my dear. Ronin walks them along the hallway, past rows of numbered apartments, until they reach 17. Remi won't need to worry about memorising the number, though - he'll know it's Ronin's place by the heavy iron horseshoe that's been nailed above the door, fixed firmly in place.
"Home sweet home," he drawls, fishing the keys from his pockets and unlocking the (multiple) bolts and catches. "Wait here a second?" he asks. "I've got to take the silver away from the threshold to let you in."
sink into the wasteland underneath
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
stay for the night, I'll sell you a dream
