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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 10, 2013 20:23:47 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. He had lived.
Somehow, that struck Moose as a surprising fact despite all he'd been through. He'd spent fifteen years in prison, and through all that he'd never been so confident he was going to die as he just had been.
Well, that was saying it all wrong, wasn't it? He hadn't been afraid at the time--he'd been too distracted or unaware of what was going on. He hadn't even realized how weird it was to have a giant bug until after the fact. The fact that it was talking had been his only real sign--he wasn't sure how big bugs were supposed to get normally, but talking was definitely out of the question. So was magic, which was definitely what had happened to the exits.
He might have been a stranger to talking bugs back then, but he doubted he would be in the future. He had one of his own after all--a little blue dragonfly that was perched on his shoulder. She had been mostly silent since they'd left the mansion, and Moose didn't have to wonder why. It was obvious enough that she was tired, and seemed to be using his shoulder for support as much as anything else.
Well, that was fine with him. He had lots to think about. A few hundred people had walked into the mansion, and maybe twenty had walked out. Even that was a hopeful estimate. There were only four that had come out of the ballroom, and while he'd seen some in the distance, gathering at the front of the drive, there were so very, very few of them.
Maybe he'd leave. That was on his mind as he walked away from the vanished mansion. Maybe he'd walk away and never return, far away where the bug couldn't find him. Only even as he considered it, he knew it wouldn't happen. He had never been far outside of LA. He'd never been more than an hour away from it, and to leave it would be impossible.
Which left him what? Nothing, really. He didn't have a job or a place to live, but he did have a dragonfly he had to take care of, and he doubted that it was going to be willing to explain itself to people. Mostly he was just tired, and rather then starting the long walk back to town, he eyed the drive in the distance before sitting down on a large rock.
Well, at least his suit wasn't ruined. |
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 10, 2013 20:52:14 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. Silent was the night, or so he wished. He’d come to the mansion in hopes of perhaps expanding his network and being able to make a few more clients for his art. He hadn’t expected to be attacked by a giant talking snake the size of a fire hose and meet a girl who could shoot fire from her arms. It was confusing at best, and at worse, he just felt like sitting down and having a long thought about going to any more mansion parties that he mysteriously got invitations to. Never again.
Still, when he managed to leave, he suddenly felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders. He was exhausted, but at the very least he was out, and he didn’t look back at the mansion as he began to walk away. His shoes were hurting him; he wasn’t used to wearing those kinds of shoes, and the suit was too stuffy and he just didn’t want to be there anymore. He wanted to go back to the hostel and curl up, perhaps not wake up the next day because he was so dead tired.
Was any of that actually real?
Good question. He bit his bottom lip as he made his way through the yard, glancing around to see if anybody else had made it out. He was aware that his small group from the garden had been alive, last he’d seen them, but they’d quickly split up when the snakes were dead. Who else was here, and who else had made it out? He was pretty sure that he’d smelled something burned as he was heading out.
A brief glance around, and he saw someone. Whoever it was happened to be sitting on a nearby rock, probably resting and probably alive. At least someone was still kicking around, and he wondered if he should even try and approach. That was just a downright traumatizing experience, and he wouldn’t be too eager to be approached right after, either.
”Hey, are you alright over there?” He called out from where he stood, not too far and generally close enough to hear, but still not in any sort of personal space.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 10, 2013 21:16:04 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. Someone was talking--a voice that didn't particularly ring any bells. Very few did, after all. Voices tended to sound fairly similar to each other unless they were terribly distinct. He had to put together whole picture to recognize anyone, and sitting down on his rock he didn't have the full picture.
Sitting down on the rock he barely had the energy to stand, but he did anyway, reaching down to try and nudge his suit back into shape. It had never fit him properly in the first place, and after all the crap that had just happened, it wasn't looking it's best. It was too big around the belly and too small on the shoulders, and it was a good inch above the ground. His shoes wouldn't pass muster either--they weren't nearly expensive as they looked at first glance, and they pinched his toes uncomfortably.
He supposed it wouldn't matter. No one who'd been in the house was thinking about clothing. They'd seen monsters and demons and god knows what happening. People had died. No one was going to call him out on his suit being a bit too big, and after a moment he stood up, turning towards the man.
He was vaguely surprised to find that he recognized him, and his eyes widened slightly before he relaxed. What the hell was his name again? Deer or something--but that wasn't his actual name, and he was struggling to remember it. He'd been nice enough though, and had bought him dinner, and he gave the dragonfly on his shoulder a quick glance before calling out.
"Yeah. I'm fine. Basically unharmed, unlike most." Because people had died, and others were injured. Some had been unharmed but left behind. It wasn't nice to think about just the same. |
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 11, 2013 11:00:34 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. Oskenon:ton took a couple of seconds to just breathe; the air was cool and it didn’t carry the scent of burning things, so at least there was that. He didn’t want to see what had become of the mansion, though; maybe later, when he got his bearings back together. For now, he kept his back turned and if a giant snake came rushing out at him to finish the job, then he was shit out of luck, now wasn’t he? Another faint sigh as he let his shoulders relax, eyeing the man that sat on the rock at the end of the drive, or what was supposed to be a drive.
But when the man stood up, he immediately recognized him, or at least thought he did. The only person as big as the man happened to be was someone he met a couple of weeks ago, during his first week in LA where he got lost on the skid row. Less than pleasant, and he sincerely thought he’d be dead by the end of the day, but he wasn’t.
Now, what was his name again? He took a few steps closer, but still keeping a few feet of distance just in case the man was feeling edgy and didn’t want to be approached. Nothing out of the ordinary with that, especially in the aftermath of… What, an attack? Attack of what? Giant snakes? What else had happened in the other parts of the mansion?
Now, Moose, was it? He’d said his name was Moose? He didn’t remember asking for another name, or perhaps it was just lost in there somewhere.
”Hey, fancy meeting you here.” He thought he wouldn’t be seeing him again after skid row, but he supposed everything worked in strange ways.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 11, 2013 17:26:14 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. He really hadn't been expecting to ever see the man--Deer whatever--ever again. He hadn't thought of what he'd say, but he still felt that vague sense of gratitude. He'd fed him after all. Given him a good meal in exchange for literally nothing. He'd asked for nothing in return, too.
Even so, 'fancy meeting you here' wasn't quite what he was expecting. He'd almost been eaten by a giant bug, and the guy was making small talk? He knew that some people took refuge in normalcy, falling back to old habits and patterns in signs of stress, but that was taking it to a whole new level. Even Moose, normally unperturbed, was bothered by what had happened.
"Yeah, kinda unexpected." Which it was, because why exactly would a hobo be at a fancy party? For that matter, why would this guy? Was he rich? He sure as hell hadn't seemed rich when Moose had encountered him, but then he didn't exactly have a good idea of what 'rich' was.
"I was working before shit went south. What happened to you?" Bugs. Probably bugs.
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 11, 2013 18:54:08 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. Yes, small talk amongst all the destruction because that was all he could really afford at the moment. He couldn’t talk about it because he wasn’t even sure what he’d seen, and that was disturbing enough as it was. What’s more, he wasn’t even sure if he could talk about it the next day. Would people think he was absolutely insane? Probably. On drugs? Very likely. He didn’t even want to think about that right now.
So instead, he grinned faintly at Moose, because it was Moose, right? It had to be, because he remembered that he was named after some sort of deer. At least, his nickname was; he never got a real name from him. Still, he definitely recognized him when he spoke up, if his size didn’t do that already. He looked a little awkward standing there, but at the moment, who the hell wasn’t? Everybody was disoriented and trying to get away from that damn mansion as fast as possible.
”Um… I was invited here, not sure why. Probably because of my art, but…” At that point, he nodded over his shoulder towards the mansion. Or at least where the mansion was, and he actually took a double take there. When he arrived, it had been looming all nice and pretty over the hill. Now it was nowhere to be seen, and he actually turned halfway to stare at the empty space that it once occupied.
”I… um…” An uncertain pause, fairly sure he’d just been through hell and not hallucinating it all. ”…Snakes. Lots of very, very large snakes.” He turned back to Moose, his brow creased with worry. ”I didn’t just imagine all that, did I?”
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 11, 2013 20:46:13 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. His art? Moose hadn't known he was an artist. He was forced to wrack his brains to what was not even a week ago, struggling to remember. Had he said anything about it? No, he was pretty sure he hadn't. He would have remembered that, he was sure, because he knew so little about it. It stuck out. Art wasn't a thing in prison except in very, very specific contexts. Were prison tattoos art? Could that be counted?
Which left him with a whole lot of questions that were pleasant distractions from the reality of the situation. What kind of art did he do? Maybe he'd have to ask later, but for the moment he should probably explain that no, no one had gone crazy that night.
"Nah, if we were drugged it wouldn't be so clear." He said with a shrug. "We had a giant talking bug a bit taller then me. Ate some people--the rest ended up getting enslaved and added to the army. Got out with me, a girl, and two agent types." He paused, then nodded his head to the snoozing dragonfly. "And her. Supposed to watch me or something. She talks into my brain or something."
Moose was acting surprisingly mellow, despite the bit of insanity he'd just spouted. Sure, it didn't make any sense at all, but then not much did to him. All he could do was roll with it and keep right on going. |
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 11, 2013 21:17:00 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. He turned, despite being a little wary of Moose, towards where the mansion used to be. Welp, definitely not there anymore. No smoking pit in the ground to tell him it’d sunk down into an abyss where it belonged, either. It was just dense wood now, on top of a hill and he had no idea where it could’ve possibly gone in the scant few minutes it took to walk from the front door down to the driveway. What the hell was this shit? He wasn’t one to swear, even in his head, but this sure as hell warranted it.
At least he hadn’t been the only one… Or wasn’t that a bad thing? Too many questions. Either way, Moose seemed to confirm that it wasn’t only him. Good. Now he could check that drug-laced drink off the list of things he should never consider doing again, even if he wasn’t aware of it. A faint sigh, and he turned back to Moose just in time to see him motioning towards something sitting on his shoulder.
With Moose’s size, he had to squint to see that tiny, shimmering fleck sitting there. ”…A dragonfly?” Sure looked like it, though he couldn’t help but grin just a little. Such a tiny thing, looking completely unbothered as it sat on someone who was several thousand times larger. Hell, Moose might’ve been twice his own size, let alone comparing to a little bug. It was almost cute, in a way.
Moose being so mellow certainly helped him a little, and he forced himself to relax. As for the dragonfly talking in his head… Yeah, perhaps he’d inhaled a little too much smoke back there. ”That’s… odd. Really odd. But that whole thing back there was just… worse.” A little pause, his grin fading. ”A lot of people died in the garden. I think only four of us made it out of there…” There had been that one girl in the shed, but he didn’t want to think much on that.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 12, 2013 11:33:46 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. "Yeah. She's a dragonfly. Like a little..." He paused, trying to find the correct term. "Like a little guardian angel. Only evil, because if anything happens to her, daddy'll come and eat me." Which seemed a bit cruel, since she didn't seem that evil. She seemed polite and forthcoming, and she seemed to show off her displeasure at the comment, wings fluttering slightly. Alright, maybe not entirely asleep, even if she was resting. She was a newborn after all.
Only four? That pretty much added up to what he'd guessed--maybe twenty or so. Maybe more people had gotten out of the hedgemaze, but it had been pretty spotty.
"What're you going to do then? Some people are calling the police." He wasn't sure he wanted to be around when the police came. Not with the dragonfly at the very least. If he explained himself, they'd probably think he was an addict. More concerning, they might try and touch the dragonfly, which was quite clearly not an option.
"Really don't think the police can do much. Or that they'll believe us." |
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 14, 2013 21:08:48 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. The dragonfly’s… dad? What? Oskenon:ton was genuinely confused but too exhausted to truly question it. Either that, or he was going a little insane himself. He had just seen a bunch of talking snakes the size of fire hoses try to suffocate them all, and then a girl who shot fireballs at the lot of them with only her hands. Too much smoke and whatever green stuff was burning for the both of them, he supposed. He tried to rationalize it anyways, taking another deep breath of clean air as he glanced around again. He was alive; that was what mattered.
”Like a spirit animal… A dangerous spirit animal, I guess.” He gave another little shrug, because that was the best explanation he could possibly give. As for what he was going to do… Well, he didn’t know. ”I just sort of thought that I’d go back to the hostel and revaluate things.” Do that, pack up and get the fuck out of LA by the next morning because there was no way he was staying here after that.
”Yeah, they probably won’t…” He pressed his lips into a tight line, considering everything for a moment before his mind went back to Moose. And where did he have to go? Nowhere but a park, probably, which was a lot worse than Oskenon:ton had it, for sure. His expression softened a little more. ”…Hey, you wanna go for a walk?” And make any sort of destination far, far from where they were.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 15, 2013 22:17:31 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. Moose wasn't entirely aware that he was spouting jibberish. It hadn't occurred to him that not all people had seen Magnus. After all, it had been broadcast--just not to everyone, and even those that had seen it might not clue in that was what he was talking about. He simply didn't clue in, and likely wouldn't unless explicitly told.
A spirit animal? His face scrunched at the mention, only aware of the concept in the vaguest of senses. "Suppose you could call it that. Not really sure what it means, but... sort of I guess?" As far as he knew, a spirit animal was something like a guardian angel, which was correct only if you squinted at it for long enough to give yourself a headache.
A walk though? He paused, giving the man a glance before giving a firm little nod. "Yeah. Wouldn't mind getting away from here. Don't hate 'em, but not a huge fan of the police. Not when I'm the only guard that got out alive. Especially not when I was workin' pretty much under the table." Because he wasn't an official hire, and he wasn't sure he ever would be at that moment. "Don't know anywhere around here though. Could say I'm lost, and my ride's dead." |
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 16, 2013 14:12:28 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. So they had just been attacked by various murderous animals and barely got out of a disappearing mansion alive, and now Oskenon:ton wanted to go for a walk. He supposed it was the only sense of normalicy he had left, and he didn’t want to deal with the police on that particular night. Nothing against them, but he doubted telling them that a mansion had disappeared, along with a couple of corpses and giant talking animals would go over too well. Moose didn’t seem too eager to be getting chummy with the police either, so just walking away would probably be best. Not like there were any security cameras left for them to track them with.
”Well, I’m lost, too. That makes the two of us, and your dragonfly.” If she counted at all, but realistically, he didn’t care too much at the moment. As long as a much larger dragonfly didn’t zoom in and kill the lot of them while walking, he’d be fine.
Oskenon:ton shoved his hands in his pockets and began to walk in a random direction; the mansion itself was on a high hill, surrounded by plenty of greenery and taller trees. If anything, they could easily disappear in there once the police came.
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 16, 2013 14:25:32 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. It was questionable if the police would ever even find out he was there. Missing persons reports would be filed, and the owner of the agency was probably going to have a fit, but there wasn't really any evidence of anything. There was no sign of the men, no sign of the mansion. It would take weeks for the property records to even confirm there had been a mansion, and that the whole thing hadn't been entirely made up. Even so, things would never be solved. Nothing that had happened was possible, and there were so few survivors who'd made it out that the story would never be believed.
Better to avoid it entirely.
He let his feet carry him along with the man, glancing around as they went. "Not normally out this far. I mostly stick to the city, which isn't... so much plant life." And a city park didn't have anything on the kind of forest they were actually in. "I guess we can walk downhill until we find the city." Which was one way of doing it he supposed. He knew it was on a hill, and he didn't see any reason why walking downhill wouldn't return him to a place that he would recognize.
He gave the man another glance before just asking. "What's your name again? 'Cause I just remember 'Deer', and I'm pretty sure that wasn't it. I'm just crap with names."
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 16, 2013 14:59:11 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. Oskenon:ton had spent a lot of his life in the woods, and a lot of his childhood was spent either being babysat by trees, or babysat by the ocean. Being surrounded by the woods as they began to head down the hill was more comfortable than being in a mansion for him, and he relaxed slightly as they began to walk. Perhaps they’d hit the city soon enough, and he could pretend things were back to normal. As for walking around, alone, with a man about twice as big as him that thought a dragonfly could talk and was potentially a murderer… Well, live slow, die whenever, he supposed.
”I used to live close to the woods, so I’m used to this sort of thing.” Lots of forests on the island, and lots of sea, too. Thankfully California wasn’t a landlocked state or else he would’ve fled a very long time ago. There were the faint sounds of birds and a couple of bugs, and of course the rustling grass and leaves, but otherwise it was completely quiet. A glance beind him told him that they’d been covered up by the flora rather effectively; he couldn’t even see the drive anymore.
”Oskenón:ton.” He said with a faint grin, turning to walk backwards and face Moose. ”But it’s alright if you call me Deer. A lot of people do that, and my name’s quite a mouthful.”
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 16, 2013 15:13:01 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. Ironically enough, Moose was a murderer--although not from the situation that Oskenonton was probably imagining. He hadn't killed anyone recently. He hadn't even really hurt anyone--not in any way that really counted. A scuffle here or there certainly didn't in Moose's mind, largely because they always ended quickly. If someone bumped into him and made to start a fight, they tended to rethink it when they got a good look at him. Only the stupidest of people were going to mess with someone of his height and build, and while he'd never trained to fight, he still knew how to.
"Didn't use to live anywhere." He responded, simply unaware that he'd just said something horribly cryptic. It was simply the truth for him--he didn't remember where he'd grown up. He might have spent his whole childhood in the forests and it wouldn't matter a bit because he didn't remember it.
Of course he hadn't--he'd grown up in the city--but he didn't know that.
"How about Osken? Shorter, easier to remember, and I can actually pronounce it." A nice middle ground. Plus, calling him Deer was a bit weird. A bit too close to dear, nevermind how close it was to Moose's own name. He kept right on walking, vaguely confused by the fact that he was walking backwads. Moose wasn't nearly coordinated enough to do so reliably. |
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 16, 2013 16:01:16 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. He didn’t used to live anywhere? But how was that even possible? People had to live somewhere at all points, whether it was in a mansion or in a hut on the side of a highway or a hostel. Oskenon:ton had done pretty much every sort of living situation there was, minus the high class, extremely wealthy options. Yes, he’d spent some time with no roof over his head at all, but at least people knew his general area. Having lived nowhere was just… cryptic.
”Can’t say that makes sense, but sure.” Everybody was a little frazzled at the moment; he’d gladly let it go if it meant he didn’t have to think on it for too long. There were no lights ahead and no lights behind them, and he could almost pretend that things were back to normal again. Yep, just walking in the woods with a dirty suit and a guy who thought a dragonfly was talking to him.
”Yeah, Osken is fine. Doesn’t matter too much; people butcher my name all the time.” And a lot of people called him a few more things that were less than nice.
”I think I only ever got that you called yourself Moose, though. I didn’t ask for another name, did I?”
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 16, 2013 16:24:32 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. Didn't it make sense? Moose paused, squinting at him before he finally clued in--right, the guy didn't know anything about him. As far as he knew, he'd just stayed something that was completely impossible. No, he wasn't completely crazy. He scowled a bit and then opted to explain himself as best he could.
"Well, said that wrong. I grew up somewhere, just don't remember where. Don't remember anything from when I was a kid, so stuff like this doesn't ring any bells." Better to get that out of the way before the guy caught him looking at something he should have known about but didn't. He didn't generally blurt it out, but he had met the guy two times already, and that was damn near close to a record in Moose's experience. He rarely met the same people. People didn't want to be around him when they found out he was homeless, and the fact that the guy hadn't bolted the second time he encountered him was... well, pleasant. Certainly a good outcome compared to how things normally went.
Another name? He raised an eyebrow and then gave a little shrug. "Don't really have one. I mean, I've got a legal name, but I don't really remember shit about it, so it's not really... me. That's just someone else. Moose is about as close to a real name as you get with me."
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 16, 2013 17:16:23 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. So, did Moose just not remember anything from his younger years? He would’ve thought that was the best time to keep things in mind, especially when one was a child. He remembered a lot of things from his childhood very clearly, but for Moose to have entire gaps missing was strange. He turned back around, facing the right way as he more or less hand to scramble down a rock, onto a lower level of land and waited at the bottom for Moose to catch up with him. Moose was bigger; he could probably handle that in a single stride.
”That’s too bad… I remember a lot from when I was a kid.” And a lot of people he met could at least recall where they grew up or where they were born. ”Why don’t you remember, if you don’t mind me asking?” And if he minded, he was going to drop it faster than a hot brick. Moose was still intimidating as hell, and he wasn’t about to poke and prod into a past he didn’t want to be brought back up.
”Well, if you prefer, then Moose it is.”
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Post by DARRIN "MOOSE" MOORE on Jul 16, 2013 17:40:55 GMT -8
tagged: oskenonton. date: may 3rd, after midnight.notes: post site event. Moose did handle it in a single stride, taking minimal effort to get down. At the bottom he stopped, straightening up and leaning back against it for a moment. He wasn't actually tired--didn't need to stop or rest or anything--but he did want to stop if he was going to be talking about it. He wasn't terribly good at multitasking, and the terrain was hilly enough it required at least some focus. He couldn't let himself be distracted and then fall off a damned cliff or anything.
He didn't mind, and he reached up, pressing a finger into his hair and running along. There it was--the biggest one, the most prominent of his scars. If he kept his hair cut short, it'd have been obvious, but his hair was long enough to cover the scars and the patches that hadn't ever grown back in. He was just lucky that most of the damage had been on the back. "Probably can't see it, but there's scars back there. You'd have to look to notice em, if you want." Which he probably wouldn't.
"Don't really remember, but they said I was in a car accident and I ended up slamming my head or something. Not really sure on the details, but my brain got all scrambled and they figured I was going to die. Didn't die obviously, but any memories I had are all fucked up beforehand." He gave a little shrug, dropping his hands, and decided that was probably a good enough explanation. He didn't know much more then that himself--doctors had explained if the first while and then given up. How did you explain the brain to someone who had only the vaguest idea of how it worked? |
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Post by OSKENÓN:TON on Jul 16, 2013 20:28:54 GMT -8
tagged: Moose. time: May 3, After Midnight. speech: Oskenón:ton. notes: - - -. Moose stopped and so did he, pausing where he stood just a few feet away. He wanted to rest, then? He didn’t quite get that Moose was terrible at multitasking, though he was beginning to understand that he might have had memory issues, among other things. More than just the fact that he forgot things frequently, at least. It was actually sort of worrying, and despite Moose being almost a stranger, he still felt rather badly for him and was glad that he provided him with a dinner, at least.
Oskenon:ton wasn’t expecting to actually be shown the scarring. He had noticed the first time that he had one that practically split his face in half, but he hadn’t noticed all the slightly smaller ones along his hairline. Most of them were in the back, according to him.
”O-oh, that’s… unfortunate.” Very fucking unfortunate, and awkward because he hadn’t expected the man to spill something so personal, more or less. ”Well, it’s more of than I was expecting, so I think it’s alright.”
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