Rostislav Zelenka (ghostsongs) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2019-05-12 09:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | #december 2017, greer, greer x rostislav, rostislav |
Who: Greer and Rost
When: Monday, Dec 18th, mid-morning
Where: the cemetery
Status: complete
The weather was turning colder, but the first big snow hadn’t happened yet, which Rost was rather grateful for. There were things he needed to take care of at the cemetery first, mostly with his trailer, to get it ready for heavy winter. He’d been going back only sporadically, since nothing was growing now, wary of what might be going on there. Luckily, there didn’t seem to have been any more break ins or destruction from long-dead witches. Rost was thankful for the break. But duty did still call, the owners were still paying him, so he couldn’t avoid the place completely.
He’d asked Devlin and Greer over breakfast if they’d like to join him in a work outing. He really didn’t like to go without other people now, and luckily his loves were usually amenable. Dev opted out this time, but Greer was game to keep him company for a while. Rost promised it shouldn’t take long and he would treat her to lunch once they were done. Unnecessary maybe, but he tried to show his appreciation to both of them as much as possible these days. It was a cold crisp day, so he bundled up a bit and pulled his boots on, then drove the two of them to the cemetery gates in his work truck. “Sure you are wanting to come in with me?” he asked Greer as he parked, looking over at her.
Greer wasn't entirely used to this weather, having lived on the west coast for so long, but she loved it. The snow was beautiful, and she was incredibly fond of the heavy winter coat and wool hat she had bought at a nearby thrift store. As much as she loved her summer dresses and skirts, she couldn't afford to catch pneumonia here. Eager to get out and about for a bit, Greer jumped at the chance to accompany Rost to the cemetery. Even if it was for work, she could help, or at least walk around a bit while he got things done.
So when he asked if she was sure, Greer gave him a smile and reached out to brush her gloved fingers along his scruffy jawline. "Of course I'm sure! The living need company as much as the dead. And you can put me to work if you want to."
Rost happened to think women working and getting their hands dirty was incredibly sexy, and he wasn’t surprised that Greer was willing -- eager, even -- to give him a hand even in this sort of weather. He smiled fondly at her and leaned over the console to press a kiss against her lips. “You are the greatest possible company,” he murmured, then smooched her softly again before he pulled back. Rost climbed out of the truck. He pulled his toolbox out of the bed and went to unlock the gate and open it up. It wasn’t broken, so that was a good sign to start off on. Once Greer had joined them, he escorted them inside and down the path, his gaze roaming around to check for damage.
Greer followed close behind and imagined Rost would stop if he saw anything amiss or out of the ordinary. As she usually did when she was here, she felt something a bit off, something that had her slightly more aware of her surroundings than usual. It didn't concern her right away. The cemetery seemed to be quiet and she didn't see any obvious vandalism or damage. But Rost was much more in tune with these things than she was. "How does it look?" she asked.
There didn’t seem to be anything broken so far, but Rost was feeling like there was something off about the place. It definitely wasn’t unnaturally warm, though he would’ve kind of appreciated that at this time of year. Things just seemed slightly ... out of place. He was wondering if that was just his imagination, and he was about to answer Greer that it all looked right, when he was struck by what it was. “It is ... wrong,” he murmured, taking Greer’s hand with his free one to lead her down one of the rows of headstones. There was an angel statue on a granite base in the middle of the row, her head bowed and her hands together in prayer. Rost turned his head to squint at the next closest angel and saw her in the same position. Then the next. “They move, but they are never all the same,” he said softly.
Wrong wasn't exactly what Greer wanted to hear, but it didn't surprise her. She followed Rost, trying to pinpoint what it was he was feeling. The angels had given off a strange feeling every time Greer came to visit Rost when he was still in his trailer, but she hadn't paid much attention to their poses until Rost pointed out that they were all the same. She studied the one closest to them, then looked down the path at the next. Head bowed. Hands in prayer. "Should we check to make sure they're all the same?" Greer asked, aware that there were others sprinkled throughout the cemetery. "They weren't like this the last time you came around?"
“No, they were not,” Rost confirmed in a murmur. He let go of Greer’s hand to step up close to the statue and feel around the back of its foot. His fingers found the little leather pouch that was tied there and had been for a long time, a bit stiff from being exposed to the weather, but still soft. The hex bag was intact. Rost didn’t expect the small drop of magic to overcome everything, but he didn’t usually get such a bad feeling just being close to one of the statues. Like his stomach was sick. “Yes, let us ... look at more. If you are all right,” he said as he took a few steps back, closer to Greer again.
Greer nodded. "I'm okay," she murmured. She reached out to touch his arm. There was a somewhat sickly feeling settling in her stomach, but Greer was willing to ignore it for the time being. If something was happening here, maybe they needed to know about it. Greer wasn't sure what they could do, but it was best to know what was going on than to live oblivious. "I feel a little off, but that could just be the circumstance," she explained, taking hold of his hand again, if only to keep him close.
Rost’s fingers closed firmly around Greer’s, and he started walking a bit more quickly deeper into the cemetery. He thought it was probably significant that Greer also didn’t feel well, but perhaps that was just paranoia. In any case, he wanted to verify his suspicion about the angels and possibly get them the fuck out of there as soon as possible. Maybe it wouldn’t have been as threatening-feeling to anyone else, but Rost had spent many hours in that place, and he didn’t like seeing changes he’d never seen before. “Inform me if it feels worse, yes?” he murmured to his lover, giving her a quick, worried glance.
Greer nodded. She didn't like feeling wrong, but there was something in the air. Something intriguing, if a bit ominous. They were just angels made of stone, but there was nothing comforting about them. Even so, Greer felt like she and Rost were maybe tapped into something deeper. Rost was the caretaker of this place, even if he wasn't comfortable being here. "Does anything else feel off to you?" Greer shivered a bit in her coat. "Besides the angels, does anything look strange or out of place?"
It wasn’t a bad enough feeling to make him quite panic, but the deeper they went into the cemetery Rost felt a growing sense of urgency. Something was obviously going on, and it didn’t seem like a positive thing. He gave his head a slow turn to look around again at Greer’s question, hunting for anything else that didn’t look right. “No,” he said. “It all looks same, except the angels. But it feels wrong.” Saying that to most other people might earn a scoff or an eye roll, because most had their senses dulled or outright turned off, but Rost knew that Greer would understand and believe. She was sensitive, she was probably feeling it too. Another statue came into view, in the same position as the others, and Rost cursed softly in Romani.
Greer walked toward the statue ahead, wanting to get closer to get a better look. Maybe touch it, just to see what would happen. "They're praying," Greer said. "I mean, that's what it looks like. Maybe they're aware of the darkness in this place? Rather than being a part of it." She sighed. "I don't know. They've always given off a bit of an ominous feeling when I've come to visit you. What do you think any of this means?"
Rost had never gotten the impression that the statues were benevolent beings, sometimes the poses were too menacing, the moving was too sneaky. But hell, what did he really know? Not a lot. He didn’t even know if they were alive somehow, or had been enchanted at some point, or when they’d even been installed in the cemetery. No one had a clear answer, and Rost had asked. So ... hex bags had made the area feel less bad, but they couldn’t stop everything, obviously. “I do not know,” he admitted to Greer with some regret. He squeezed her hand. “Perhaps a warning of some kind? Perhaps this is their true position and whatever spell they were under has worn off? Or a new one in place? I know so little ... It does feel bad here, though. That is never a good sign.” He leaned to peer at the feet of the statue as they approached -- the bag was still there.
Greer was thankful that Rost was staying with she and Dev, otherwise she would have insisted he move in with them now. Cemeteries didn't always have a calming presence, and there was a reason why so many horror films and novels were centered around a creepy cemetery, but Greer felt as though they were really supposed to grieve, but also find comfort. She wasn't feeling that now. "What needs to be done?" she asked him, looking up at the statue. Reaching out, Greer placed her gloved hand on the stone, just to see if there was anything to be felt. Her stomach felt queasy from the touch alone and she pulled back. "Work wise, I mean. I can't imagine you can just leave things alone without getting into trouble."
Rost nearly reached to snatch Greer’s hand away from the statue before she could touch it, but he stopped himself. She was sensitive and he’d done the same thing with no ill effects. It was just difficult not to be protective of her. Nothing seemed to happen to her, so that was a slight relief. And Greer was right, there was still work to be done. “Ahhh ... I have to cover flower beds, and I was going to wrap the trailer pipes ...” Rost began. He listed off a few more maintenance items he needed to tick off, then gave Greer a bit of a pained look. “You do not have to stay. Take the truck out if is better, give me a couple of hours.”
"No, I want to help," Greer insisted, not at all comfortable with leaving Rost alone in this place, though she was sure he could handle himself just fine. But she knew he wouldn't want to leave her either, had the roles been reversed. "With four hands we'll get it done much faster, and then we can go. We can get back home, and maybe Dev will have started a fire in the fireplace, and we can just relax for the rest of the day." She glanced up at the statue again. Its eyes were closed, hands pressed together in prayer. Or what looked like prayer. Being there was starting to give her a headache, but she would stay until Rost was able to leave.
That was definitely an inspirational goal to work toward, and Rost’s chest felt warmer with appreciation that Greer still wanted to stay and help him. It had been nice of her before, now it felt even more significant. But Rost didn’t want to waste any more time standing around being appreciative. He nodded and led the way for the both of them to get to work.
The feeling in the cemetery continued to be unsettling and oppressive, and by the time they’d finished most everything and he was crawling out from under his trailer, Rost had a pounding headache. Greer didn’t look like she felt very good either. He put a gentle hand on her arm and nodded toward the front door. “You would like some water? I have aspirin as well.” He didn’t know if there would be any relief inside from whatever supernatural bullshit was going on, but they could at least warm up for a minute and get some drugs in their system.
Greer didn't mind the work at all. It was cold outside, but they worked quickly. Greer wanted to make sure everything was done properly so Rost wouldn't have to come back unless absolutely necessary. She was hoping there would be little to no funerals for a while. When they finished and Rost offered water, Greer gave him an appreciative smile. "Yes, please. And if there's anything else you need from your trailer to bring with you, we should get it now." Maybe taking a quick break inside would rejuvenate them both. Or maybe they would just feel worse.
She wasn’t the only one hoping for no funerals. If the cemetery would affect everyone the way it was affecting them, any burial would be miserable. Rost thought vaguely about talking with the local funeral director about not having graveside services for a while. Hopefully this would be just another short-lived anomaly and this bad mojo would go away. He let himself and Greer into the trailer and went to fetch two glasses of water and the little pill bottle from the bathroom. The sick feeling in his stomach eased a bit, but he wasn’t sure if that was from the warmth inside or all of the wards on the place or what. He offered a water and couple of aspirin out to Greer with a wan smile. “I will grab a few more clothes,” he murmured. He’d taken quite a bit with him to their now-shared place, but there were still some things he wanted and Greer was right. Rost didn’t want to come back until he had to.
Greer took the water gratefully and sat down to take the medicine. She felt a little relieved being inside his trailer. It was warm and familiar to her and some of the tension inside of her eased. She took the aspirin and waited as Rost gathered some more things. "It doesn't seem as bad here," she called out. "Do you think it's because of the witch who put the protective spells around this place? Maybe someone could come and try and see if they can... I don't know, do the whole cemetery?" That might be a bit much, but she didn't exactly know how difficult it would be.
“Could be,” Rost agreed as he stuffed some more wintry clothes into a bag. He rummaged around a bit for a small case he kept his few valuables in, and tucked that away as well. He somewhat felt like he was leaving the place for good, and that felt bittersweet. But maybe that was just the effect of ... whatever this was. “I also have many protections up,” he said as he came back into the small kitchen area. Rost made a vague gesture at all the trinkets and talismans hanging from the walls, all the symbols of protection he’d turned into artistic decor. He grabbed a few of the most potent ones too, intending to put them up at Greer and Dev’s. “I do not know about the rest. If it comes from the same problem, Reagan could not fix it. I can ask around.”
Greer nodded, gaze sweeping along the trailer as if she could somehow pinpoint anything else he may need. She probably would have been helping more but she was feeling run down and exhausted now and it was something she really wasn't used to. She drank the rest of the water and carried the cup into the tiny kitchen to clean and put away. "If you have to come back here for whatever reason, is it too silly to ask that you bring Dev? Or myself? It's probably strange and unreasonable of me, but I don't think anyone should be in this place alone, at least not for an extended period of time."
Rost paused in his final look-around to give Greer a tired smile. “Not strange, not unreasonable. Right now, I agree,” he said, crossing the small distance to give her a soft kiss. He was touched that he had people in his life who cared so much -- because Dev would certainly be on board as well -- and wanted to take care of him. It felt like it had been a long time since he’d had that. Rost reached around Greer to snag a bottle of vodka he’d left out on the counter and tuck it into his bag. That was the last thing, so he zipped it up and reached for her hand. “Now, let us get free of this place,” he muttered as they headed toward the door.
Greer wondered if she and Dev would still be in Point Pleasant if they hadn't met Rost. She supposed it could go either way. But she also knew when it felt like time to go, Rost would come with them. They were family now, and he meant as much to her as Dev did. Greer couldn't imagine leaving Point Pleasant without him. She took his hand and squeezed before following him to the door. The idea of curling up together in front of the fireplace back home was more than a little appealing, and she was hoping the relaxation would help get rid of any lingering feelings of... well, badness.