deernet | Just duck things

[The video starts in Disaster House, so there's quite the odd assortment of skulls, weaponry and nick-knacks that are obviously visible in the background. Reaper was just putting the finishing touches on a braid for Ahiru's hair, adding a bright yellow bow to the end of it which matched her yellow dress that she wore.

She was seated and he seemed to loom over her sunny self like a dark shadow, but unlike other times he might make a network appearance, he was issuing a low growling hum of a tune as he finished setting the scene that he decided was best.

Wraith, who was recording early on purpose, finally made a low sonorous cry to announce that things were under way.

Reaper looked up from where he was fussing a bit with some of her hair that defied gravity and immediately crossed his arms over his chest to be menacing. He also made certain to send Wraith a scathing look before he was clearing his throat in a raspy growl.]

I’m cooking you the next time you record without a cue, Wraith. [He forced himself to relax.] Are you ready, Ahiru?

[She shifted in her seat, smiling at the peacock and giving an awkward little wave at the Omen.] I-I think so, Mr. Reaper. If you’re sure…

[He set his gloved hands on her shoulders lightly, but anyone else might see the gesture as menacing or maybe just overprotective. He’d promised he’d do this, and now he had worked himself up to just getting to it.] Greetings, Sleepers. Many of you know young Ahiru here, and if you don’t, well, consider this an introduction. Don’t get ideas about hurting her because I will remove your skin with a grapefruit spoon….

[Ahiru stared with a twitching brow, patting his hand lightly.] Mr. Reaper…

Ah. Right, to the crux of this post. Ahiru is seeking love in these parts, as she should. If anyone considers themselves worthy enough to take her for a nice gallivant, step up now. [He pointed an accusing finger.] The rules are: she must be home by nine. She must be unscathed. She must be happy. If any of you dare bring her home unhappy, there will be consequences. [Another pointed finger at the Omen recording.] And keep your hands in your pockets, gentlemen. This is for love not a touchy-feely opportunity

[Ahiru has started that awkward kind of laugh that kids get when their parents are embarrassing them, now avoiding looking at Wraith. Soon enough, Ahiru begins to fidget for a moment before looking at the camera with a smile.] Uhm, this is just — I mean, hi! My name is Ahiru. I practice ballet. I like music and uhm . . . bread! I'm also kind of a duck really, but I'm also a girl and maybe we could . . . spend time together? [She sneaks a glance at Reaper, a little emboldened.] But I have to be back by nine!

[Reaper issued a low chuckle and patted her lightly on the head. It was as close to fondness he might show anyone publicly.] As the lady says. Don’t be shy… [He ends his part with a dangerous laugh.]

[OOC: Reaper is in red & Ahiru is in yellow. One or both of them may reply to comments.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

In fewer words. ( Nice that it's quite a bit more in its element speaking to someone like Reaper, too. Not that its particularly malicious but it came with some natural misfortunes. ) Yes, I did find it very convenient.

Would you like to contribute more words to describe yourself?

[Finally, someone who sounded like they could be a terrorizing and dramatic as he could. Somehow he figured they might even consider murdering or terrorizing each other if they ever met face-to-face to see one another's limits.]

Do you indulge in creating that suffering or are you more of a voyeur to the events?

Would you prefer it in poetry or song? ( there's a bit of amusement in it's voice over that.

And, well. It wasn't violent in the physical sense, but who needed physical violence when they could—most technically—inflict horror through dreams. It didn't, usually, but it could. (There are a few exceptions to the former rule, but that's for much later). ) Oh, I'm more of a voyeur, I must confess.

Oh I am a sucker for good poetry over song unless it comes with a dance. [It better come with an extravagant dance.]

There's a place in this world for good voyeurism. I can provide you with some of the best spots to lurk and watch people come apart in public.

( Hah. Albtraum. Dance. You ARE a funny one, Reaper. )

Unfortunate as it is, I cannot provide the later so waxing poetic I hope suffices.

In my world, you see, there are many creatures similar to me. A Mare would come to mind— they feast, they crave the darkest and most sinister that they can inflict upon a dreamer. Limited by their need that they are and desperate things. ( It does not like mares, this much is very clear, and for a variety of reasons. )

I simply am. The cold chill, the creeping shadows, the trembling heart and waking screams. I have no need to inflict, Herr Reaper, the terror and grief that one dreams of, because I am it and it is me. ( Which conflicted, terribly conflicted, with a lot of other aspects of its nature but that's what made things interesting, right? It thought for but a moment to continue... but refrained. No, no it must refrain. Look at you getting Albtraum all riled up. )

A kindness. I'll gladly take your recommendations.

I will be judging how waxing it is, so do your best.

[Reaper was just trolling, but he also had grown up reading a lot of poetry. If there was an opportunity to listen to poetry, he would be there.]

Those sound like my kind of ladies, but I must say, so far, you are as interesting in reality as they are in concept. [There was something tempting when it came to being close to an entity that was a nightmare. It was dangerous too, given his personal nightmare fuel.]

Aren't you just a contradiction. I do like a good contradiction. [It was a little like how he presented himself.] I expect you have a physical form with a blood type given where you are. How well do you operate in Trench, hmm?

I'll send you my list privately. I can't risk crowding up all the good spots after all.

Flatterer.

Have you knowledge of where lullabies come from? ( It wasn't anything close to what it was now, back then. There was life in its skin, a heart in its chest, a joy that came from far less terrible things. Some portion of that remained. Hence, it supposed, the contrary nature. )

But such interest. Herr Reaper, I almost think you're seeking something. ( Looking for a bit of terror in your life, maybe? Or just general interest? It wonders. ) I do, I always have; we always have, beings like us. How one interprets us I suppose varies from person to person. Here it seems to be nothing more than what I am. Time will tell for the rest, now wont it?

Of course. Most fairytales and lullabies reference warnings for little children to keep them from being too naughty during the day time hours. Are you going to tell me a good lullaby? [He had no doubt that a nightmare had plenty of fuel for those kinds of songs. It also might be an opportunity to test this one's singing voice.]

Curiosity had led me down many rabbit holes, and I usually don't regret it. [For now, general interest but that was subject to change rapidly if he was inclined.] Everyone with different life experiences no doubt sees a dream or nightmare differently then. You sound fascinating. We should get a drink sooner than later.

( Yet even back then it had known the darker sides of the dreamworld, and those sides had been a part of it. Reserved for those who were particularly naughty children or pulled from the recesses of their mind begging to be unpacked and sorted through. This aside, dear Reaper you are already hearing its singing voice, its words having already held a dramatic but warm subtle tune.

Luckily for you, Albtraum is feeling generous. So enjoy: )

Then he skinned the Crow and cut her in pieces, she weighed near sixteen and twenty pounds. From the pelt he made twelve pairs of shoes, he gave the best pair to his Mother and the meat he salted in vessels and barrels and preserved the tongue for the Yule meal...

Fairytales, yes— but dear Reaper, lullabies were never meant for the children at all. Long ago, disease and famine brought Death to loom over the little ones. Mothers sang to appease her, hoping she would be entertained by the gruesome tales enough to not take their child away. ( But they always misunderstood Death. Many did. )

Indeed, I could decide what they see. And I might, but why should I when the mind already has horrors to spare? But if it pleases you then come find me. It shouldn't be too difficult to guess where I lurk.

[Reaper went quiet as he listened to the story, and what a morbid piece that it was. It was as he would have expected from someone claiming to be a physical nightmare. Trench could clearly learn a thing or two from this one.]

That was a long, long time ago where I'm from. Many lullabies were hidden warnings for children as well as indication of signs to look out for disease afflictions. [Though he wondered if this one knew Death personally. It stood to reason, didn't it?] Now your tale, I expect there is more?

You didn't happen to be present in Deerington, were you? That would have been your playground. [And he did plan on finding this one.]

For me, too. Yet still vivid in memory. ( It was not what it was now, back then. Does it long to become that; does it long to be free from this; are these merely sentiments? )

Yes, there is plenty more. Tedious though, outside of its language of origin. A tale of what use one's death becomes. ( It manages a chuckle. ) I was not, it seems perhaps unfortunately.

People are much too skeptical for fairytales and lullabies these days. [Kids had too much information that they consumed, which caused all manner of other issues. Perhaps a good nightmare would solve that.]

And how pointless that would be now, given that death has no permanence in this place. It's a momentary set-back. I suppose some would consider it a curse. [He had and often times still did.] Ah well, it was mostly a good time, though not for everyone. I didn't mind. [Lies.]

Just duck things

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