The thing that arrives in the demolished portion of the ADI building could easily be mistaken for something made up by an Entity. It's clearly dead, made bones and hide and carved pieces of wood. Its feet are hooves. Its hands are bone and wire. Dangling down amidst its ribs are wooden toggles on threads of heavy twine. Its head is a deer skull, tied to the rest of the wood-and-bone frame with wire and twine.
The skull is upside-down, but it still moves like a normal head would, turning this way and that as if the empty eye sockets can actually see.
It stays put, crouched in the midst of the rubble, looking as confused as a construct of bone, deer hide, and wood can look.
II. What Belongs to the Sea
Out in Glouchester proper, Fredrick looks like himself again-- an old man with no hair, on the shorter side, reading glasses tucked into his pocket, with a vague kindly air. He feels a little more like himself again, too. Not a lot more like himself, but a little.
Also, he can talk properly again, which is very nice. He can walk down the street, tip his hat to a stranger, and have them smile at him instead of scream. That's also nice.
He takes walks down by the beach. After all, strange dolls don't bother him. He's seen much worse. (He's made much worse. But he's not doing that any more, is he? Of course not.) Finding a body doesn't really bother him all that much, either. He just crouches down next to it. "You look worse for wear, friend," he comments, with hints of a musical Welsh accent, right before the dead body tries to grab him.
Fredrick Cotgrave | The Twisted Ones | The Flesh | cw bones and undead things
The thing that arrives in the demolished portion of the ADI building could easily be mistaken for something made up by an Entity. It's clearly dead, made bones and hide and carved pieces of wood. Its feet are hooves. Its hands are bone and wire. Dangling down amidst its ribs are wooden toggles on threads of heavy twine. Its head is a deer skull, tied to the rest of the wood-and-bone frame with wire and twine.
The skull is upside-down, but it still moves like a normal head would, turning this way and that as if the empty eye sockets can actually see.
It stays put, crouched in the midst of the rubble, looking as confused as a construct of bone, deer hide, and wood can look.
II. What Belongs to the Sea
Out in Glouchester proper, Fredrick looks like himself again-- an old man with no hair, on the shorter side, reading glasses tucked into his pocket, with a vague kindly air. He feels a little more like himself again, too. Not a lot more like himself, but a little.
Also, he can talk properly again, which is very nice. He can walk down the street, tip his hat to a stranger, and have them smile at him instead of scream. That's also nice.
He takes walks down by the beach. After all, strange dolls don't bother him. He's seen much worse. (He's made much worse. But he's not doing that any more, is he? Of course not.) Finding a body doesn't really bother him all that much, either. He just crouches down next to it. "You look worse for wear, friend," he comments, with hints of a musical Welsh accent, right before the dead body tries to grab him.