Sebastian trying to adjust to the Ivory household was a difficult task. The unsettling environment seemed to hold no logic or attachment to the world Sebastian knew so well. For a while he wondered if he was having a nightmare, or in some sense, dea...
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Sebastian laid still in his coffin, staring at the ceiling of it. Stiff and rigid, with only the sound of his beating heart ringing in his ears. It was dark, he couldn't see a thing but the faint outline of his hands if he held them in front of his eyes. At least the coffin was comfortable, he considered, soft velvet making up the inside, ensuring it's warmth and softness fit for sleeping. It was one of the only things he didn't hate about this house and his shared bedroom with Randal.
He was almost convinced his heart leapt out of his chest when the lid slowly slid to the side with a low scrape. Speak of the devil. "Found you ♡" Murmured Randal with unsettling glee and a toothy smile. He stared at him, heart easing a little at now knowing it was just Randal, but then again it wasn't too reassuring. "Such an obvious hiding spot, have you never played hide and seek before?" He giggled deviously, grabbing the other boy's hand to hoist him out of the coffin. He rose with a small grunt, and quickly released his hand, stumbling back slightly. They were clammy. His hands. And the lack of fingernails disturbed him. "Of course I have.." He mumbled rigidly in response. The shorter boy either ignored him or didn't hear him, adjusting his thickly rimmed glasses before bounding out of the room, expecting Sebastian to follow. Which he reluctantly did in the end. "Now you've got to find me~" He declared. "So turn around and close your eyes!" He strode to the living room, leaving the other standing in the hallway. The house's interior and exterior was constantly shifting, whether through little changes like wallpaper color and rug design or the layout completely. In reaction Sebastian found himself almost always lost in the spacious house.
At Randal's disappearance his first thought was to run. So that's what he did. He bolted down the hallway, unsure of where he was going but not too worried about that at the moment. He eventually slowed to scope out any grates or vents, any doors appearing to be an exit, anything. Perspiration dotted his forehead as the anxiety of being caught set in. Of course, to anyone else it would look as if he were playing hide and seek with Randal. But then again he didn't know if Luther could read minds or anything. He tugged at his stupid jester collar, cursing it for being uncomfortable and slightly restricting as he continued to speed walk down the hallway. After five minutes of walking he stopped and stood frozen to the spot. Why did it seem like the hallway was...expanding..? Or never ending? This only hiked his worry. He swallowed dryly and turned his head to peer back behind him. Nothing but what seemed like miles of vintage floral wallpaper and faded maroon carpet that smelled like old people and moth balls.
"Now c'mon, it's hardly fair to leave mid-game.." Came a dangerously low whisper. A yelp on the verge of a scream elicited from Sebastian as he nearly got whiplash turning his head to look in front of him at the source of the voice. Randal stood with an ever-present, but strained smile, fangs poking out crookedly from the corners of his bottom lip. "It's fine, it's fine... we can play outside instead." He 'assured' in a tone that let him know it was not a request.
He was quite literally dragged outside, but not at all that disappointed. It'd been the first time Sebastian set foot outside the house in weeks, and he knew it was a rare occurrence for Randal to even go outside. Tall pine trees stood formidably around the Ivory house, in an otherwise patchy and deserted forest. The sun was making a very underwhelming appearance in the sky, feebly shining and failing at it's job in the cold, dry afternoon. It's backdrop a gray sheep's wool color, cloudless and stark. Sebastian tore his sleeve out of Randal's grasp, trudging after the other boy out the door and into the front yard. It had rained earlier that morning, murky puddles of muddy water and potholes dotting the dirt driveway curling from the main road that seemed miles away, to the front doorstep. "It's perfect condition to make mud pies," Randal said randomly after a beat of standing in silence, causing Sebastian to snap his eyes from the horizon to him. "I'm not making mud pies with you." He replied flatly as Randal pushed his glasses forward to rest on a more stable spot on the bridge of his nose, crouching down to seemingly examine the quality of the mud. He half-pouted, half-scowled up at the taller boy. "Pets don't decide whether or not they're doing something." He commented maliciously. This caused Seb's irritation to spike. "Do I look like a dog to you?" This caused Randal to laugh, standing up to face Sebastian, looking up at him due to being a few inches shorter.
"Of course not, silly Sebastian, you're a boy."
"That's not my name."
Randal's grin grew visibly strained and forced, and he must've reached a breaking point in his patience because without warning he shoved Sebastian roughly, into the puddle. Sebastian cursed, sitting up in the mud. Fine. He grabbed Randal's ankle, dragging him down with him, eliciting a splash and a squeal from the boy. He laughed gleefully. "You're such a dickhead." Sebastian spat, now agitated and filthy, upset that his attempt at revenge went unsuccessful. "LALALALALA~!" He jammed his pointer fingers into his ears, and then shoved his companion's shoulder, as if he didn't swear himself. This turned into a half-tackling-half-wrestling match in which Sebastian eventually got the upper hand, pinning Randal to the ground by his shoulders. He wished he could burn holes into the boy with his glare alone. He wanted to punch all his stupid teeth out, punch him anywhere until his own hands were littered with bruises. Maybe make his nose bleed again. Anything to wipe that disgusting smile off his face. But he couldn't. Something, a pathetic little part of him feared and knew that something bad would happen. That in some way, shape or form, it was a bad decision. "You cry when you're angry." Randal's sly comment brought Sebastian out of his violent thoughts. He hadn't realized the hot tears blurring his vision, bubbling up on his lower eyelids. "No I don't." He mumbled stubbornly, sitting up and scrambling away from the subject of his anger. He hastily wiped his eyes without thinking, causing dirt to smear onto his cheekbone. He didn't care too much anyways, he was going to be dirty either way.
In the brief moment of silence Luther stuck his head out the door. "I sensed violence. ...You both are filthy...what are you doing?" Randal flung his arm around Sebastian's neck as if they were the best of friends. "Playing! Want to join us?"
"No. Come wash off."
𖤐
Sebastian sat with his knees hugged loosely at his chest, staring at the murky water around him. The bathroom greatly unsettled him. The tiled walls somehow were always wet, and he could've sworn it looked like there were bloodstains in some parts. It was the same train wreck for the floor and sinks. Some of Randal's water-proof dolls were left in a cluttered pile next to the bathtub, evidence of his less than frequent baths. The light above the sink flickered occasionally, causing Sebastian to cast it apprehensive looks, begging it to not go out. The water was half warm now, mildly sudsy from soap he'd half-heartedly tried to use to wash himself off. It felt like he was just bathing in his own grime. He'd much rather shower, but the shower head was broken. The soap left him smelling like something pleasant he never smelled before. Something he didn't have the name for.
He stuck his head into the water and screamed. His own half-drowned, watery voice rang in his ears. And yet it barely made a sound, nor a ripple in the water. He lifted his head, sopping wet ginger curls in his eyes, dripping water down his face. He brushed them aside and behind his ears. There was some weird feeling. All his previous anger at Randal washed away with the dirt. Yet he felt so unsettled and unmotivated at the same time. He fixed his hazel eyes on the flickering light. No effort left to stay alight.
┈ ✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁✃✁ ┈
pinterest tried to make me contact a suicide hotline while looking for images for this not even joking
I also have no idea where I'm going with this story lmao. Just going with it, I guess.
