Re: dead guys house: des, newt, & pat
[Whether or not she looked rejuvenated or refreshed, Destiny, to Newt's eye, looked horrible. Her gaze was glossed and glassy, she'd no trousers on, there was evidence of bruising on her arms and her legs, and, while Newt was present, she couldn't find a word to speak it aloud. His gaze moved to Patrick once, then back, and he nodded at them both when she gestured to the upstairs. He excused himself quietly.
The house sprawled out and around with the stillness of a churchyard. The scent of decay was more pervasive the deeper he went, and he'd an idea it wasn't a single man, as Destiny'd said. Entirely unprepared for whatever it was they'd be asked to do to save Destiny, Newt walked up the staircase, craning his neck to look, as if he'd be able to identify the bedroom on sight.—He couldn't.
It took a few tries before he found it. But, there was the bed, with a ghostly shape silhouetted in sheets, unnaturally still. Newt didn't know what he'd find when he pulled back the bedding, but he didn't give himself any time to hesitate. The man underneath was revealed to've died relatively recently. He saw no signs of obvious trauma. No blood. There was no outward decomposition either, just discoloring and a slack expression and an empty gaze. He sighed and closed the man's eyes with his fingertips, ignoring the coolness of the skin under his touch.]