Syndulla Scrap; Tuesday [10/29].

[howareyanow]

The island may have been doin' its best to throw a lot of odd stuff into the mix on account of the holiday, some of them a bit creepy, most of it sort of on the side of whimsy, almost all of it stuff Wayne was steadfastly trying to ignore as best he could, like most things when the island was being a bit fruity-loops.

But what he unearthed when he was busy going through some of the scrap in the scrapyard, looking for useful bits and mebbe moving a few things from here to here, was decidedly one of the most disturbing things he'd come across yet.

It was really no wonder why someone wanted to scrap it, but, it being so close to Halloween and all, Wayne was sort of wondering if he should be worried about being cursed if he decided to destroy it like he really felt he should. Or, fuck, even just fer lookin' at it...

...and the real kicker was that it would look right back....

Syndulla Scrap is open!

[[and bookbeltof_love is not allowed to talk to me anymore.]]

Comments

[intraspective]

Iris meandered in some time mid-morning, her hair in a long, long, long braid, and Silly chirping delightedly to her, to himself, to the world as he fluttered in unsteady loops around her head.

She blinked.

"… I ain't even gonna ask why that were made," she decided.

Because no. Nooope.

[YOU LOVE IT.]

[howareyanow]

Wayne, who found himself weirdly distracted and unable to take his eyes off the thing half the time, opened his mouth to say one thing. Closed it. Tried again, but with something else. Closed it. And then found that the third time was generally a charm, and started contemplating just throwing a tarp over the thing, but then he'd also have to add a warning sign to anyone thinking of moving the tarp later.

"Good," is what he finally said. "'Cuz that's a question you probably can't ever get back from."

[intraspective]

"I mean, if it were in a haunted mansion, I wouldn't question it as a design choice," Iris admitted, snapping a picture of the horror. "But it ain't really suitin' the ambiance around here much."

[howareyanow]

"I don't..." Wayne started, squinting uncomfortably, then blinking up somewhere, anywhere, that wasn't at the chair itself. "I don't think....I'd care to be anywhere where it would suit the ambiance, realleh...."

Chicken feet. Among everything, the chair had chicken feet.

[intraspective]

It had to be creepy and weird from heads to, er, chicken toes!

"'Less it were my own party and I were tryin' to discomfit people," Iris mused thoughtfully. "Otherwise, yeah no, that ain't anywhere I'd want to be."

[howareyanow]

Wayne was just going to stand there, continuing to look uncomfortable enough already, before he glanced over at gave this person an appraising sort of look.

"What'd you think the chance are," he ventured, "that the thing's cursed? So, like...what sort of trouble would I be opening the door to if I were to just straight up take a welding gun or a stick of dynamite to this? Not so sure puttin' it out of its exestential misery is worth getting some of my own..."

[intraspective]

Iris gave him an appraising sort of look back as Silly landed on her shoulder, wobbling a little on impact.

"I ain't sayin' it's for sure," she said, "but the island ain't playin' too sweet with the creepies right 'round now. Usually I'd give you fifty-fifty on it goin' okay for you," because on the island it was always better safe than sorry, "but these last two weeks... I'm givin' at least a ninety that it'd go poorly."

[howareyanow]

Wayne sighed, a very short, efficient sort of sigh.

"That," he said, "s'bout what I figured, too..."

So he was just going to go for that tarp and pull it over the monstrosity for the time being.

"If it's still there after Halloween, though," he decided, "I'm taking my chances."

[intraspective]

"It just ain't worth it this week," she said, feeling for him. At least she didn't have to work with that staring at her. "That ain't nowhere near my list of ways to go out."