lordoftheozarks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lordoftheozarks) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ph_logs2023-11-07 12:31 pm
lordoftheozarks) wrote in ph_logs2023-11-07 12:31 pm
Entry tags:
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.
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.
no subject
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.