#(this got so long i’m crying agdgdg)

[hearthtales]

The grandfather clock in the hall downstairs ticked steadily onward. Evening darkened into night.

But Maude could not sleep. She sat in the hearth room in the warm glow of the fire, struggling to focus on reading a book. She’d been stuck on the same page for at least ten minutes now. Her mind kept drifting back to the last words she’d spoken to Samhain at dinner. His smile hadn’t wavered, despite everything. Guilt twisted within the innkeeper.

Had he truly deserved such treatment? Perhaps he was simply an excellent actor, perhaps he’d tricked them all, but… he had seemed like he truly cared. Like he sincerely wanted to help. And oh, Nettie loved him. Maude hadn’t stayed at the table long enough to see her reaction, but she could imagine the child’s dismay vividly. Her heart ached.

Stop fussing over it, the innkeeper scolded herself. She gripped her book tighter and glared at the words on the page. It didn’t matter in the end. She couldn’t take back what she’d said. It was safest for Samhain to leave anyway, given Feld’s fascination with him.

Feld… why hadn’t Feld appeared to pester her yet? Surely it had eavesdropped on the conversation and realized Samhain would leave soon. Maude knew it would loathe the idea of losing such interesting prey. She had braced herself to endure hours of the creature’s whining the moment she was alone.

But Feld was nowhere in sight.

A chill passed over Maude. She glanced toward the staircase leading to the second floor. Samhain had chosen to stay one more night, she knew. His barrier would protect him as he slept. He’d be fine.

… Yet her fear lingered.

—

How to impersonate someone? How to wear their skin, smile their smile, laugh their laugh?

Feld delighted in such masquerades. Human forms sapped its energy, but it craved the satisfaction of tricking people, and the challenge of impersonating a loved one exhilarated the creature. Such a wonderful game! Such a test of love! To see whether someone could truly tell the difference between an imposter and their sibling, parent, friend, or partner.

Feld considered this game marvelously amusing since it usually won. If a dreamer longed to see someone enough, they often overlooked slight flaws in appearance. True, the dream also dulled the dreamer’s sense of reason, but this didn’t make the game unfair. It was simply… unavoidable.

—

The creature who looked like Liore gently swung Sam’s hand back and forth as they walked through the forest. “I was very polite,” she explained, “and I listened very closely, for a long time. I think the tree only speaks when it knows you’re truly listening.”

Fallen leaves crunched beneath their footsteps. The girl hummed a soft traveling tune that lilted with the birdsong and blended with the babble of a nearby stream. When a snail appeared on the trail ahead of them, she slowed and walked around it, giving it plenty of space to avoid frightening it. She shifted her grasp on Sam’s hand so she never had to let go.

“The tree must be wise after living so long,” she mused aloud. A massive root sprawled over the path. She finally released his hand to climb over it, then turned to wait for him to join her on the other side, ready to offer help if he needed it. A smile played across her face again. “Maybe, if we visit it often enough, we can hear all its stories together.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe...

For a ghoul who used to have trouble sleeping, Samhain had long mastered the methods and exercises to help him calm his mind enough to fall asleep. It was like meditating but letting go at the very end and letting oneself fall... fall... fall...

He had to keep reminding himself not to get caught up in the illusion. Not to trust whatever the creature showed him. Remember, Sam. It's just a dream. It's just a dream... a dream...

Remember the music box spirit, trapped. All alone with nothing but her thoughts and remnants of what used to be. Don't get caught up in the illusion, Sam. Don't get trapped... Don't fall... Don't... fall...

“Sammy!”

The forest air was crisp and sweet, carrying the smell of pine and earth and wildflowers. The sun was shining but it wasn't too hot, and the grass felt warm between his toes. His fingers curled, gripping bits of grass and soil in between them. He remembered this feeling... He remembered this voice...

As if he'd just woken up from a dream (Was he dreaming? He couldn't remember..) Sam's eyes fluttered open and he gave a great yawn (He must've been asleep for a while if he was yawning like that. How long had it been since he had such a nap on a day as perfect as this?)

“Sammy!”

He heard her again, this time as clear as a bell, though his eyes and head still felt heavy. It was when she got closer that Sam felt like a wave of cold water wash over his entire being, stirring himself up from his very core. Her hair. Her eyes. Her smile. Just as he remembers it...

“I heard it this time!”

Suddenly a pang of guilt stabbed him straight through his chest (But why? What was he guilty of? What had he done wrong?)

“The oldest tree! I heard it speaking.”

He grabbed at his chest. It was hurting. He couldn't breathe (This is wrong wrong wrong wrong Something's wrong...!!)

“Sammy..?”

He snaps his head towards her voice, Liore suddenly just inches away from him. Her wavy locks that always seem to fall in all the right places. Her eyes that glowed like ambers in the sunlight... “Sammy, you all right..?”

(Eyes...)

He studied her for a minute, eyes wide and unmoving. He reached out and cupped her face, with hands of flesh and skin. His thumb gently caressed her cheek, now flushed a rosy pink, and he could feel her breathe on his palm. He brushed the hair away from her eyes, earning a confused flutter of giggles from her. “Sammy, what's the matter with you?”

(Nothing. Nothing's the matter)

"Nothing. Nothing's the matter," he replied, as if on cue. Finally he smiled and Liore smiled in return, looking relieved.

Finally she tucked her hair behind her ear and offered Samhain her hand. “Wanna listen with me?”

"Sure."

-------------------

Back in Sundown, Nightshade felt restless. The moment Samhain bid her goodnight, she felt the hair on her neck stand on end.

Though the circumstances of their 'bonding' was not ideal, there were some upsides to having shared spirit essence with one another. Not only were they connected on a physical level but on an emotional and spiritual level as well. Whatever Samhain felt, Nightshade could feel it to a certain degree. And with her feline sixth senses doubling down, Nightshade could feel it now; something was definitely wrong.

"Ah fudgeknuckles..!"

[theaterism]

MUSE PROFILE

tagged by: @xfaucheuse (you tagged me in this 500 years ago and i’m so sorry i’m just getting to it now!! i couldn’t finish the whole thing bc it was getting Long but i got most of it done! thanks for the tag! <3)

▌𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 : Nathaniel Cammish.

▌𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 : Taken; married to Cerise Fontaine. On a deeper level, they weren’t very close. They mainly bonded over similarities — they were both materialistic, conceited, and fond of gossip.

▌𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 :

Nathaniel specialized in sound manipulation. He could catch sounds, turn them into visible strands, trap them in any glass vessel (typically jars or vials), and distort or stitch them together to form new ones. He also had impressively keen hearing in general.

In addition to enjoying sound collection as a hobby, Nathaniel did business with a motley assortment of people who sought sounds for various reasons. Some reasons were harmless: most sound collectors, for example, simply collected them for the sake of possessing them. Certain sounds were also useful for calming people, potions, or breaking curses.

Some individuals bought sounds for darker or outright malicious reasons. Nathaniel usually didn’t care, as long as they paid him enough and as long as he believed he wouldn’t face repercussions for his involvement. He did care when he felt like he didn’t have much choice in the matter (he inherited a tense alliance with certain individuals, which obliged him to cooperate with specific demands). This alliance was useful to him in several ways, but he still despised it because it made him feel like a dog on a leash.

On the surface, he was simply a successful socialite and businessman (with his sort of “business” always discussed vaguely). In terms of the darker and more secretive side of his trade, he was a scandalmonger and a racketeer (albeit a rather minor one, which he actually preferred because it drew less unwanted attention to himself). He ruined lives by collecting spoken secrets and selling them to the right people (“right” meaning those who offered him enough in exchange). If he believed twisting a person’s life into pieces would benefit him in some way, he usually took great pleasure in doing so. He covered his involvement to avoid consequences and delighted in watching scandals unfold from the sidelines.

Nathaniel also excelled at a torture method called sound-lacing. He typically used this as an interrogation technique for anyone reluctant to reveal secrets. Less often, he used it as a punishment for anyone who crossed him in some way. It was exceedingly painful and could be fatal if pushed to the extreme. Nathaniel rarely killed people, however, considering it a waste of an information source. This doesn’t mean he didn’t kill people, though.

Overall, his ability to turn sound itself into a weapon made him a formidable foe magic-wise. He wielded sounds with the precision of a scalpel. If he wanted to lace someone with sound, he only needed to materialize the sound and snap his fingers to send it toward them. Sounds are tricky to dodge. Binding his hands in a way that prevented him from snapping his fingers was an effective way to disarm him. He did, of course, neither appreciate this nor make it easy. Sound-lacing also took quite a bit of energy and tended to exhaust him if he wasn’t careful.

▌𝐄𝐘𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 : Blue-grey, a strangely deep shade (close to A60 on this eye color chart)

▌𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 : Brown, with a coppery tinge.

▌𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 : Benjamin Cammish (brother; estranged); Cerise Fontaine (wife); James/Foxtrot, Adeline/Charlie, and Henry/Victor (children); a few other scattered relatives he rarely spoke with.

▌𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒 : None.

▌𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 : Being outwitted, tricked, or otherwise made a fool of. Both the feeling and the sound of being laughed at.

▌𝐇��𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 / 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 : Chess, coin tricks, gambling (poker), darts, hosting dazzling parties at his mansion, sound-collecting, secret-seeking.

▌𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 : Yes.

▌𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 : Yes.

▌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 : Snake.

(I also associate him with stoats, foxes, crocodiles, leopards, peacocks, rams, and spiders).

▌𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒 :

Nathaniel did not forget or forgive anyone who crossed him, and he held deep grudges. He was incapable of simply letting things slide when someone damaged his pride. He typically only sought to harm someone if he believed it would benefit him in some tangible way (such as getting money or information out of them), but he discarded this rule when it came to getting revenge. This was dangerous when he underestimated people.

He was also deeply narcissistic and hated believing/admitting he was wrong about anything (it wounded his pride too much). His mind was a maze of denial and self-rationalization. If he didn’t arrive at a conclusion himself, it was nearly impossible to convince him of anything. He generally refused to admit defeat or take advice that went against his beliefs, even if ignoring this advice was risky.

Overall, he was remarkably clever and perceptive and strong in terms of magic, making him a rather scary opponent when he was levelheaded, but his pride and simmering temper made him reckless at times (and led to his downfall in the end). His self-control, rationality, and composure were most likely to falter when he was angry or especially tired. He preferred seeing himself as above those around him in terms of intelligence and skill in manipulation. This self-assurance could make him careless. He was typically good at reading people and sensing deception, but he sometimes still overestimated himself and underestimated others. He also gambled quite often.

▌𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐒 : His grandfather. None. Although Nathaniel sometimes cooperated with other people for his own benefit, he was fiercely independent and took great pride in forging his own path to success rather than imitating others. If he did have role models, he would never admit them outright.

▌𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : Heterosexual.

▌𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 / 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 :

Nathaniel never truly wanted to marry or have children. He and Cerise did love each other (in their own way) and got along well due to their similarities, but they also both knew they mainly married for appearances. Nathaniel was a skilled businessman, and Cerise was a talented and beautiful actress. By marrying, they improved their image among other members of the upper class. They were each fully capable of earning money on their own. However, they each had their own lucrative connections with people that helped the couple gain more money as a whole. Their marriage was fundamentally strategic, and since they got along, it wasn’t unpleasant.

They had children mostly for appearances as well (though Cerise had only wanted one). Nathaniel didn’t mind his children, as long as they didn’t bother him or anyone he associated with. His parenting style was typically impersonal aside from the times he taught them “important lessons,” which steered them toward believing the world was a scary place where they couldn’t trust or depend on anyone.

He believed lessons like these were essential for his children to understand at a young age to succeed in life when they grew older. He had softer moments where he showed them genuine compassion, but overall, he wasn’t a great parent (to put it lightly). He was highly emotionally manipulative, toward Foxtrot in particular because he saw the most potential in him and therefore devoted the most time and attention to teaching him. He wasn’t very fond of children in general, finding them a distraction.

▌𝐒𝐓𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 : Business casual-to-formal.

▌𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐒 :

Nathaniel didn’t have genuine friends, nor did he make any effort to form friendships. More often, he considered people allies or business associates. Friendliness was one of his many facades; a performance. By nature, he was cold and calculating, but he was also charismatic and skilled at earning admiration. He made people believe he respected and trusted them because he knew this made them more likely to lower their guard and reveal useful information. He gathered secrets on instinct to use against people in the future if needed. He had no qualms about betraying people if he believed betraying them would benefit him more than staying loyal. He only formed relationships he believed would benefit him (by earning him money, improving his reputation, or for some other reason). He strived to maintain a level of detachment from others to keep them from being used as a weak point against him. This included his own wife and children.

▌𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐊 : Scotch whisky.

▌𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐓 : The mansion, the casino, or the grand houses of other socialites. He rarely traveled far from home for reasons other than gambling or business.

▌𝐒𝐖𝐈𝐌 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 : Lake, though Nathaniel disliked swimming in general.

▌𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒 : Indoors.