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Tweak says, "Rock me, Amadeus!"

Cinna (decorative) wrote in dunwichgame,
@ 2024-02-03 19:07:00

Entry tags:

!log/thread/narrative, crimson peak: thomas sharpe, the hunger games: cinna, ∙ plot: 013 rock lobster

Thomas & Cinna

01.02 midday | The Sable Salon | Low

Thomas meets a recurring nightmare.

⚠ Gore, mentions of a dead body

No salon worth its salt would've shut its doors on a Friday afternoon. None that cared to stay in business, at least. Not unless they had a very, very good reason to cancel all appointments, text their staff not to come in, and flip the sign on the door to 'Sorry, We're Closed!'

Cinna was staring at one such reason. The woman with the slit throat hadn't moved an inch. She never did. He still worried that if he took his eyes off her for more than an instant, she might come at him.

For what purpose, he couldn't say. She was already dead. And the dead were the one kind of people he had yet to see commit any acts of violence.

A knock at the door made him jump. From the corner of his eye, through the frosted glass, Cinna glimpsed a form he knew well: tall, with a mop of curls on his head and a perfectly tailored coat draping his slender frame.

Speaking of the dead…

Cringing away from the thought, Cinna called out, "It's open!" but didn't look away from the salon's only other presence.

The dead woman wouldn't be visible from the doorway. There was still a chance that by the time Thomas walked in, she would have vanished. Again.

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decorative
2024-02-11 09:17 am UTC (link)

"Who isn't?" Cinna asked, his own smile somewhat muted. The kiss had warmed him a tad, but he still felt chilled to the bone. Nothing to do with the cool February breeze, either.

The soda did indeed help: it fizzed sweetly on the tongue and occupied his mouth against inopportune questions, albeit not for long. "I suppose I could close the salon," he offered after a long moment. "If she won't tell us what she wants and I can't make her leave..."

Don't ask. Leave it be. It's none of your business. You may not like the answer.

Cinna looked at Thomas. "How did you rid yourself of your ghosts?"

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courteous
2024-02-11 04:10 pm UTC (link)

"I wouldn't jump to that conclusion just yet. If the Mistake community can figure out how to get rid of monsters, then surely we can figure out how to get rid of one ghost."

Easier said than done, though, probably.

As for Cinna's question, Thomas made a face that indicated that Cinna would indeed may not like his answer. He replied anyway. "I didn't. But I never really tried, either. My sister and I were outcasts enough. I didn't want to draw attention to Allerdale Hall or appear to be out of my mind, going into town and talking about ghosts. I really do believe it to be possible, Cinna."

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decorative
2024-02-12 05:56 am UTC (link)

Even if he didn't understand ghosts, Cinna understood the impulse to keep a low profile. Watch what you said and who you said it to. Fear of being found wanting. Strange. An outlier.

"I hope so," he said and rested his hand on Thomas's knee. He intended it to be a show of gratitude -- for Thomas's presence, for his kind words -- but he lingered a beat too long and Thomas didn't move his leg, and Cinna forgot how to perform a graceful retreat.

It would not be long now before Hopper and his colleague arrived. They would investigate. They would ask questions. They might have better luck than Cinna and Thomas, or they might leave empty-handed and frustrated.

They might call him a liar and accuse him of wasting police time.

Nothing Cinna could do about it now. He sat on the bench outside his haunted salon, and drank his soda, and waited, a ghost at his side. A ghost at his back.

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