ph_logs | November Catch-All

Who: Lord Erik Osborne & You
What: Open post for November shenanigans
When: Thru Nov
Where: All over town
Warnings: General vampire warnings that blood drinking is always possible for discussion/depiction, NSFW warning in some of these because he is, you know, the town whore, discussion of death. Will warn as needed.

Well, I don't know where they come from
The morning after his demise at the hands of Chris, during that carnival duel to the death, Erik finds himself sprawled out in the alley behind the Oak & Iron looking for all the world like a drunkard in a gutter. And, ew, why is he wet?

"Ugh," he groans as something steps on his chest. Something... alive? "A-ah," he sits up lightening fast, causing the cat that was treading on his chest to yowl at him indignantly as if he's being the rude one.

It isn't just one cat, either. There's a whole mob of them. They are rubbing up against him now, standing up on his legs and headbutting his back, meowing insistently like they are expecting something from him.

"What do you want?" he asks them, annoyed. "I don't have anything for you to eat."

But they sure do come
These cats are relentless. He's walking back to his home now looking like the pied piper with a parade of loudly meowing cats following behind. No matter what he tries to do to shoo them away, they just won't leave.

"I already told you, I don't have any food!" he practically pleads to them. "Just leave me alone!"

I hope they're comin' for me
A new notice goes up on the bulletin board:

Seeking:
Someone to help test the sturdiness of my new writing desk. Open to all comers, but especially certain newspaper employees who know the value of a good, hard endorsement. Call on me at any time.

Your Premier Whore,
Lord Erik Osborne.

Wildcard
Hit me up with anything at all. I love surprises.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He's not sure what it means for him that, upon seeing that familiar handwriting on a package, he feels both excitement and dread at the same time. What's in there? He's not foolish enough to open it outside, thank god.

As soon as he pulls it out and realizes what it is, he has to laugh. She's been thinking of him, has she? How does he tell her he's not usually the one who uses these? Not that he couldn't...

He turns it over in his hand a few times. Would it be rude not to at least try it? It can't do him any permanent harm. He should probably write a thank you note back, first.

Dear River,
Thank you for the handmade gift. The craftsmanship is flawless. I'll be sure to let you know.
Sincerely,
Lord Osborne

Another letter; the same handwriting, with Erik's name on the outside, but no additional item inside.

Dearest Erik, I've been wanting to clear the air a bit about something and after getting your letter back I realized that it might be easier in writing than trying to say it in person and getting all awkward and fucking things up. So here, let me lay it out, and try not to imagine how many versions of this letter got thrown directly into the forge. It's fine, I'm a normal grown-up person and I can discuss my feelings because I'm very brave.

Here the letter is broken up by a sketch of Bobbin - Eddie's demonic chicken - done in rough lines. She looks, somehow, judging; a tiny chibi River cowers before her.

Sometimes I worry that maybe our relationship is too sexual. Not that I don't enjoy it, but every now and again I bolt upright in the dead of the morning and wonder if I've been neglectful, or pushy. I could blame youthful eagerness but let's not kid ourselves, as thirsty as I am on a daily basis that's not it. I've had time to sow my wild oats. But it is - it's grounding, for me. When I first got adopted my sister warned me that necromancers can forget how to just live sometimes, and I didn't know what the fuck she was talking about. More than a year later now, I've got every idea, and it's a grim fucking seduction. Do the job, be efficient, burn as little of your life force as possible, make the problem go away. But down that road is a life survived and not one lived, and the thing about surviving is it's a loser's game. No bird flies high enough that it never falls. One day I'm gonna check out and not check back in, and I want the life I leave behind - I want it to be a good life, yeah, but I'd also like it to be a happy one. You make me happy, Erik. But I've got these knife ears perked for other ways to be happy together too. It'd be nice to mix it up sometimes, even if you've gotta remind me about it. Don't hesitate, yeah? Love, River la Croix

He opens that second message expecting something short and possibly sarcastic. What unfurls instead is much more than he was prepared for. He's once again grateful that he waited until he was inside and alone to open it, but for very different reasons this time.

He can't help but smile at that cute sketch of the chicken. Even she is better at drawing than he is. The smile lingers, as he reads the rest of her heartfelt message. But a queasy unease is growing all the same. Too... sexual? The first thought that comes to mind is: is there such a thing? But, yes, he knows there is. Or, he should know.

Does he feel neglected? No, not at all. In fact he... has perhaps been allowing it to stay this way because the real truth is something far less sexy. He is not as good at being emotionally vulnerable as he pretends. River, more than he, has been the driving force in prying more of his feelings out of him. He's the one who has been reluctant. He can't just let her believe the failing (or responsibility) is only hers. What she's saying about a life survived rather than lived resonates far too deeply in his core. Does he really know what happiness feels like?

He picks up his pen and... spends half the day crafting a reply.

River, Your words touch me deeply. It brings me real joy to know I make you happy. I want you to know, affirmatively, that you make me happy too. In your company, I am able to drop my guard in ways I haven't in so many years I cannot properly count them. I have not, at any point, found myself dissatisfied with how things have been. I find your high sex drive and your confidence behind it incredibly attractive. That said, your words cause me to realize I have not been as attentive, myself, as I should be. Do not let the brave face I put on fool you. I feel very out of practice at this. At dating, and the kind of personal intimacy that comes with it. There are still shadows in my past that I have not shared with you. Perhaps it's time I did. You might better understand me once I have, but I admit to being afraid you won't like what you uncover. Still, you are right that things must not stay always the same. The truth is, we may both need reminding from time to time. I will make every effort. I will not hesitate if you don't. Seek me out when you are ready, and I will make myself an open book to you. Love, Erik.

November Catch-All

still NSFW no matter what, lol

A Couple Days Later

no subject