[location: Metody's house | closed]

[trojanhorst]

Horst hasn't been to Metody Green's new house much. He's walked past it a few times, smiling at the cheery, bright pink-ness of it, but that's often been in the middle of the night, when he expects people like Metody to be fast asleep, and his own house has one too many Johanneses in it for Horst's liking. It's amazing the gift solitary people have for driving other people away in droves.

Even so, he notices a new addition that draws him up short, etched into the fabric of the ground: this house has been warded.

Horst knows the ward, too; it's one of the same ones that's on his house, laid there by his intrepid and infinitely paranoid brother. This one is a blood ward against the unholy. Horst is still slightly bitter about it, in fact.

Unfortunately, Horst is also considerably hampered in his plan to knock on Metody's door because of this ward. Instead, and feeling his dignity abandon him by the second, he settles for standing on her sidewalk after dark, hands cupped around his mouth, and shouting at the front of her house.

"Miss Green! Miss Green!"

Comments

[skinandbone]

Some of Metody is asleep, yes; her human body is delicate, and requires long hours of rest. Other parts of her are awake and busy, listening to the radio - she's developing a fondness for hard boiled detective serials - cleaning upstairs, and knitting in the living room.

And lazing around in the garden, enjoying the feel of clean earth and growing leaves.

Something that looks like a twisting wall of irregular white rocks lifts it's head, and, no, it's actually a very large snake, if snakes can be made out of knobbly skulls, each blooming with three or four brain cases. For variety, the snake's head is make of a cluster of elongated pelvises and frilled with shark's teeth. It regards Horst, then ducks down to pick up a stick, which it offers to him with a hopeful air.

Upstairs, the human body flails out of bed and goes crashing to the floor, feet still tangled in the sheets. Metody scrambles free and down the shirt hallway, then reverses just before the door to dash back and pull on a pair of pants. Back down the ha- wait. Metody jerks to a stop and pulls the waistband of the pants away to check gender.

Okay, right, male, just like he thought. But Horst is clearly expecting a woman, so he should probably put on a shirt, too. For manners.

Metody hurries out a few moments later, barefoot and pulling on a camisole. She practically glows in the moonlight - especially since shes not wearing makeup, and her related and eyebrows are reduced to a subtle glimmer. Tattoed leaves are like shadows on her arms and feet.

"Horst! What's wrong?"