Young Writers Society

Lorcan and Second stepped apart the moment the former felt someone tap his shoulder. Seeing that Second was right in front of him, he couldn't possibly guess who had spoken. He turned to look at who had tried getting attention and immediately pulled a blank. A quick glance in Second's direction showed he was just as ignorant of their identity.

"Can I help you with something?" Lorcan asked.

"Ja, excuse me Herr, but I couldn't help but notice your choice of...attire." His accented voice isn't hostile. In fact, it's perfectly polite, so much so it's a little offputting.

He shifted uncomfortably at the comment. "It's not what it looks like," he said, desperately wishing he was anywhere but here. Second grew noticeably tense beside him.

"Really? Because it looks to me like you're the reason we all get stereotyped like...that. It's ridiculous."

"I don't know what you're talking about?" Lorcan slowly, trying to work through what the man just accused him of.

Auryon stifled a snort of laughter from the background as she watched this interaction. Kratzer just crossed his arms. "A blind man could see it, kid, don't play a fool."

"See what?" Lorcan nervously asked. He didn't like how this confrontation was going in the slightest. The man was just getting more annoyed as he grew more confused, and he was terrified that things were going to get violent. He held out his hand beside him to make his sword appear - or, at least, the beginnings of it - but was suddenly reminded that Hero wasn't there when the sword failed to appear.

Second took a step from beside him, looking up at the man from behind his mask with calculating brown eyes.

Auryon doubled over in laughter, unable to contain herself. "Mr. Fox, he's not one of you! He's just some rando, not a demon!" she calls to her partner through the chortling.

"Ach, Fraulein!" he glanced down, though his expression wasn't visible due to the full-face mask he wore. "Sorry, uh, about that, Herr," he said to Lorcan awkwardly.

Taber concentrated for a few seconds, tapping a claw against his chin. He ultimately shrugged. "I don't remember," he said. "My dreams and going to strange places like that creepy murder place kind of blend together, because they're about as weird. But probably a year or so?"

Lorcan blushed in embarrassment. It had been one thing to be called a vampire in the past; it was another to be called a demon.

Kratzer glanced back at Auryon. "I'm not a demon, I'm demonic, there's a difference. Sorry again for the trouble, there, Herr."

''I would have thought it a blessing to find oneself brought here with company, but it seems you've grown tired of yours.'' I said to the lady, hoping to start a conversation.

"I'd just gone to sleep," James replied simply. "In a place very unlike here."

Eremia held her glass with both hands. "He enjoys more company than I do," she said, taking another sip. "And it seems peaceful enough, so I thought I would make my leave. I can only tolerate so much company."

"It's alright," Lorcan said. His face remained red underneath his mask. Though he was no longer under the threat of the confrontation escalating, he was still desperately wishing that he was somewhere else - or at least farther away in the room. "People tend to misjudge me based on appearances."

Beside him, Second relaxed when he realized the threat had passed.


"I was in our living room," he said. He was trying to recall the specifics, but doing so was surprisingly hard. "We were arguing over what game to play next, and our mom was telling us to just pick one already." Was that the last thing that had happened? A stupid fight? If he died here, or never was able to see him again-

No. He was going to get back, and he was going to get back soon.