yellow flicker beat // open, ghost

[azazel.]

To anyone wandering around at night, even in the territory, it would potentially be eerie. It was no different for Azazel, who had another rare night of being unable to sleep. In his time he had been here, he had been able to sleep, for the most part. But he could hear <i>something</i> rustling around outside of the place he had slept in. A call out had left him with no answer, although the rustling had stopped, leaving only eerie silence. In its place, Azazel could almost hear his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of nerves and a real fear of whatever was out there.

But he had to see what it was, didn't he?

Swallowing, heavily, he opened his door, just barely. He could see the shape of a feline, pacing just out of sight. Something about it was <i>wrong</i>, though. Despite his misgivings, Azazel eased the door open a bit more, just enough that he could partially slip out. From his view, he could see that the feline was mangled and its movements were jerky as if it didn't have control over its limbs. "Are you okay?" His voice was quiet, just a whisper, but the feline whipped around to face him.

While Azazel had thought it was mangled before, the feline's face made him lower his gaze, towards its paws. The quiet, rasping voice caught his attention, though. It was barely audible, but he could make it out. <b>"You did this."</b> The feline's voice, even as raspy as it was, seemed to be raising as it repeated the sentence. "I didn't-I promise!" He couldn't even remember this feline. Why was it blaming him? The feline seemed angry at his answer and lurched forwards. Panic flashed through Azazel, and he ducked behind his door, closing it with a slam. Panic and a strange feeling of guilt filled him as he heard the feline clawing at the door, repeating the mantra. <b>"You did this!"</b> Even through the door, the feline was loud and clear. On the other side, Azazel was frozen in fear, repeating a mantra of his own, as if to convince himself. "I didn't do it. I didn't do it. I didn't."

(Hints of Azazel's past maybe? It's a rushed mess lmao)

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[LAZARUS]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9.5pt; line-height: 1.4;letter-spacing:.1px"]Lazarus had been through enough that nothing could really scare him anymore. The Corso sweated out fevers and fought for his life — nothing about a place would make him cower. Concern him, though? Perhaps. And something about this place did make his skin prickle. He didn't like it, being outside was safer. But lately he had been doing his best to stay here, indoors. Be a part of things. It hasn't worked too well. Lately he'd been prone to starting fires at the smallest of inconveniences. His temper flared, there's a fire. Someone startled him, there's a fire. Scars are starting to form around his paws, raised pink patches of skin. Everything was hot, everything burned. Tonight, at least, the fire is quiet too. He walks around just to feel the cool floor underneath him, and ends up with something he had never expected. He was never really a believer.

Cropped ears pin backwards against the strong shape of his head. I didn't do it. I didn't do it. I didn't do it. His own heart starts to race, an unappealing taste flooding his mouth, bitter and rotten. His experiences weren't the same, couldn't be applied to this stranger's life, but the words tether them together. After a moment of feeling glued to the floor, the dog barks — the noise is rough and wordless, surprisingly soft and low, but dragging from his throat as he takes a few steps closer. "What's going on?"

[azazel.]

After what seemed like an eternity, a voice calls out, barely audible behind the door that Azazel had taken shelter behind. A bark, another canine. His ears perked, and he fell silent, except for his panicked, labored breathing. There was no sound anymore. No scratches on the door. Had the feline gone? He didn't want to risk looking, not when the mangled feline he saw could still be waiting. Instead, he tried to calm his breathing, although he couldn't hide how his voice was shaking and quiet. "Is the cat gone? They were-" He stopped himself and tried to harden his voice. Make it sound stronger. "Don't come any closer! They may still be out there."

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[MOONMADE]

[size=9pt]Moon's walking paces through the corridors when he comes across the scene. He's so engrossed in his thoughts he just barely avoids bulldozing over Lazarus in his stride, and the sudden appearance of the antlered canine alongside the calls from the other side of the door and the palpable, glacial air has him jolting to attention, slamming on the breaks just in time. Heart beating to match the two others present, he stares at the cane corso a moment as he listens to the voice - Azazel, he soon recognizes - before he realizes they're not being fucking raided again, and the kid hasn't come across another dead body, and he can calm down-- It's probably a ghost. "Kid," says Moon, leaning against the door both so he can be heard and because he's completely exhausted and at the moment, he might just need the support. His voice shows it. "Scariest thing we got out here is a Bambi that barks. What did you see?"

[azazel.]

There was no answer from the first canine to bark, and Azazel could feel panic rising in his throat. The feline had reached the other dog before they could get away, he just knew it. And then a voice he can place a face to breaks through his thoughts. The leader, Moonmade. The leader promised there was nothing out there, except for the other canine Azazel had heard before. For a few moments after the question, he was quiet, trying to still his hammering heart and swallow back the panic that had rose in this throat. "A-A cat." Azazel answered, finally, his voice still shaking and odd even to his own ears. "They were-hurt. Bad. I asked if they were okay, and they-" As he continued his story, he found his voice growing choked with panic and emotions. Swallowing, heavily, he took a moment to try and relax once more. "Said i did it. But I didn't. I don't remember them. How-?" His attempt at calming himself hadn't worked. Azazel's voice rose in pitch once more, the memory still fresh in his mind. He was rambling; something warned him of it, and he fell silent, waiting for the leader's response. Moonmade had to believe him, right? Azazel would never do anything like that. He couldn't hurt anyone.

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