#i just assume gore if full chaos rafa

[malachileclair]

DATE & TIME: February 22ND, 1:30AM LOCATION: Catacombs  TRIGGER WARNINGS: Possible gore later TAG: @raafes

There’s a darkness here, one that you wear on the skin, one you breathe. Wear your shadows as the back of a jacket, wear it in your lungs. Wear it as a suit, no need to wonder how well it fits – how the two of them together walk through the tunnels, light as only steams when they can reach them, light as something rare. They’re here for Raafe, for them, but not think there won’t be blood too, don’t think he’s not walking like graves were made for him; hands as coffin-makers, not one to lie in them. It’s rotten here, but they’ve been in fresher places, it doesn’t change how he walks.

“This place is yours, shouldn’t you tell me where you’ve decided to go?” He slows, waiting for Rafa to notice, a gloved hand grazing over a skull, fingers just above the browbone, before sliding into one of the eyes, wondering silently, barely a thought at all, but felt, if he could break it. A quirked eyebrow and something cool within him, something that you’d think he’d be walking across ballrooms, crowds parting for the both of them, something regal, if we’re here to call them divine in Paris. (If we’re here to remember the grounds above are places killed, grounds above full of red, grounds above of things uncounted for. Why would he count?) Something waiting, something knowing, something almost always amused by Rafa’s nature, the curve of their lip. He’s here to witness before anything else.

“I’m not here to ask you to dinner, or dance.” Though the first is arguable in context.