Dante's Never Ending List of Epic Ghost Hunting Music
counting stars ▬ ONE REPUBLIC
Dante's Never Ending List of Epic Ghost Hunting Music
counting stars ▬ ONE REPUBLIC
I DON’T EXPECT YOU TO
| ]FORGIVE ME[ |
WHEN I REFUSE TO
| ]FORGIVE MYSELF[ |
■ALTERNATE UNIVERSE † TW: DEATH, SUICIDE, SELF HARM, POSSESSION■
I’m one of those people that says shit that people take offensively, but I never mean it offensively.
Yeah, you know now.
Mildly amused is what Skye could be called at the moment. The warnings to potential viewers were necessary. Some kid would take it upon themselves to pull together their own hunt and fall through old floors in a house. They were cautious but the thing that registered with Skye was their preparation. From the salt line to the way they all moved with expert precision. The group was a team. It provided her a certain measure of comfort. Anything they faced beyond the door, Skye believed they were prepared for and there was little reason for her to worry.
Again she tugged on the necklace around her neck as Dante and the crew approached. She looked at the flashlight he handed her, turning it over in her hand and shaking her head. “I don’t need this. Power’s still own. They keep this place maintained like it’s some short of museum.” She turned the key to the right and the locks click. With a brush of her hips she opened the door. The familiar scents were strong in the home. Vanilla, brown sugar, and cinnamon all greeted her. As far as she knew, no one had been there since the last round of holidays but it still smelled as if fresh baking had been done.
Immediately she got cold but she passed it off more as nerves than anything else. She didn’t turn the main lights on in the kitchen. Instead she flicked the ones on over the sink and stood there against the counter while she waited for the men to gather. Now would be a good time to give them a run down.
Skye smiled and shrugged nervously, “Obviously we’re in the kitchen.” She pointed to the right of where they stood, “Those stairs lead up to the main floor of the house where you can reach another set that will take you to the top level.” Her fingers then pointed to a small door off the kitchen, “That door, leads to another set of stairs. The basement is down there. It’s also where her workshop was located.” She ran her hands over the front of her jeans again and directed her question at Dante, “Where do you guys want to start?”
Dante kept his eyes on the girl, the cameras were on, he couldn’t do anything or say anything stupid… Yeah right, this was Dante, he was constantly fumbling. Thank god they shot hours and hours of footage, and the guy that edited it was good enough to make the guy look a whole lot smoother than he actually was. Believe it or not, Dante was a bit of a fool when it came down too it, he was over eager, and always raring to go; and as much charm as the man had, he had enough clumsy nature to match.
"Even better." Dante tucked the flashlight into his back and stepped inside, dropping the duffel gently on a counter. "Clearly." the kitchen comment was a bit obvious, but then it would look good on camera anyhow. "Alright, well we’ve usually done things pretty methodically, work from the bottom to the top, or the top to the bottom. In this case, since you said a lot of the activity was upstairs, we’ll start up there, and work out way down to this… workshop. Sound good to you?" Dante looked back to the three gathered behind him — two holding cameras, the other working the mic. "Get her a handheld, would you?" he nodded, pulling his from his duffel.
Everyone had a camera, it made the chances of finding something more likely; and if someone didn’t see something that went on, it was captured on film. “Alright, so upstairs.” as much as the girl was the tour guide, Dante was taking point — no way he was letting the young thing take lead and run off into a potentially haunted epicenter. Without so much as a nervous though, Dante moved toward the stairs that led up. “Alright, so what we’re going to do is head upstairs, put up some cameras, look around, and work our way down.” he nodded firmly, making sure to communicate to the girl, and the cameras.
"Right, I guess we should mention now, we’re going to spend the night." Dante nodded to the camera, moving to the top floor and starting to set up the cameras, helping the crew connect cables and place cameras strategically. "That is, if it’s alright with you, at least. Of course you don’t have to spend the night inside, but we’d ideally like to lock down and set up shop in the living room, monitor what happens in the waking hours. Supernatural activity is usually a lot more prevalent in the dark of night." Dante was hoping she’d give permission, without it, they’d be shit out of luck.
It wasn’t typical for Greg to be seen indoors…well not always. Sometimes when it was too cold out, he would slip inside a club or a bar and order something warm to drink and just relax. He was considering a hotel for the night. At least so he could finally get a good night’s sleep. It was just strange, seeing him in the bar drinking a hot cider with no alcohol like he requested. He was too stupid on alcohol and it didn’t take a lot to get him drunk…so bottom line it wasn’t the best idea.
The blonde barely glanced at the man who made his way to the bar, until he heard him speak. His bag had been stowed, but his clothes screamed that he was either homeless or fashionably challenged.
"I don’t know. I don’t live here." he shrugged. He had only gotten in three days ago. He was just starting to get familiar with the area and had finally found a supplier.
Quickly, the young man downed his first, and ordered a second. Alcohol seemed like the most logical solution to his restlessness tonight. His fingers traced the rim of the glass, trying to make that whirring sound that some people could make, but nope, nothing. Dante frowned slightly, still letting his finger roll around the edge, sighing at his inability to make any sort of sound.
"Well, aren’t you the friendliest one in the joint." Dante quirked a brow, glancing over at the one that answered oh so curtly. "I’m guessing you’re not in the service industry… Or maybe you are." rarely was the man snippy, but he wasn’t afraid of being a bit of a dick when he felt like there wasn’t a shared level of respect.
"Never mind, mate, have one on me." he nodded to the bartender, shaking his head.
Dante was rarely seen without his camera crew; he was nearly attached at the hip to the lot of them — but it was a late night, and they were sleeping, whereas Dante couldn’t seem to lay still. Restless, bored, annoyed and a wee bit lost, the young male made his way through the streets. Most places were closed, but a bar in the distance was lit up like the god damn forth of July.
Pushing in, he made his way to the bar, raising fingers and ordering some Whiskey. “No ice.” he noted, thanking the tender as his drink was served. “So, what’s there to do for fun in a town like this?” Dante asked, not directing the question to anyone in particular, but giving a firm nod and a wink to the man seated beside him.
It wasn’t often that Dante found himself on Remy’s doorstep. The two were mates, sure, but Dante wasn’t around enough to stop and have drinks. When they saw each other, it was usually more business than pleasure. However, for the first time, in a long time, it could be a little bit of both.
"Room service." Dante cracked knuckles against the door, leaning against the frame and smiling a bit. Bottle of vodka in one hand, bag in another — something the older male might be interested in. He came across talismans quite often, but rarely in the form of this. A bit of luck that could help Remy on his less than savory endeavors.
"Open up, motherfucker."
"It’s afternoon — that’s besides the point. Good morning my beautiful followers." Dante was a bubbly man, he was upbeat, positive and downright happy. On the surface, at least. He was grateful for his fame and fortune, he loved his fans, knowing they were the only reason he had any sort of success, so every week, he made a video for his website — more often than not, it was an interactive, fun little bit. This week was no exception.
"So! This week, we’re going to be having a contest." Dante packed backward, his camera man focused on him and the short strides he took. Of course, being that he had his back to the oncoming pedestrian traffic, he couldn’t quite anticipate crashing into someone. The collision was forceful, sending the young man stumbling forward.
Instantly he stood back up and turned on his heel, brushing hands over his jacket and offering a nod of apology to the other patron. “Christ mate, I’m sorry about that.”