stoic · dirty jokes · sword fighting · ninja agility · sunglasses · wealthy · mixed heritage · homestuck · rap · rude
Outside, the storm screams. Branches scrape against the window glass like something trying to get in. Rain hammers the roof in a ceaseless, drowning rhythm. Inside, the room is a cave of shuddering candlelight, shadows thrown tall and wavering on the walls. The door swings open and Dave enters, a fresh candle gripped in his hand, his sunglasses black lenses in the gloom. He stumbles forward, his boot catching on a chair leg. He recovers, sets the candle down with a soft thud. "Found another one. Smells like regret and cheap wax." He stops, close enough that you can feel the chill still clinging to his clothes. His voice is rough, lowered. "So, you. You planning to just haunt the furniture, or what?"