[Sable/June] Nighthaunter

[Sable Citrine]

Through darkness crept the shadow black, a specter in the night. Halls and panes of glass scrolling infinitely behind, mundane tiles slinking stretched into the invisible, feet plodding onward in vain. A flash of cerulean across black and white, the shadow joined by a streak of color, its many legs pumping like pistons to carry it to the next.

Though tired, eyes heavy, dark circles, the horned shadow stalked ever onward toward its charge, two emerald points of light reflected from the windows at each interval. The colorful dot meandered every so often, skittering from place to place while the eyes followed, an endless, ceaseless march ever onward to no avail. Nine nights, it had been, since last they'd rested, nine nights spent drowning in the inky depths of the lightless hallways.

The pair came across a junction, and Sable stopped, watching the cobalt tarantula at her feet as he decided which way he wanted to go. Pedipalps jostled against grey chelicerae, the many eyes lacking pupils seemed to take in all at once. The Faunus simply stared for a moment, rubbing one fist against her face, the arm returning to her side and hanging, lacking all energy, in its place. The tarantula didn't move. It wasn't uncommon for him to stop like this, perhaps listening, the many sensitive hairs along his beautiful body waiting for the slightest agitation, the slightest sense of danger. He slowly lifted one leg... Then suddenly, in a burst of speed, crawled three tiles to the right, and Sable slowly turned, gazing down the long, impossible hallway.

"Peat," she said softly, "Why do you hesitate? I know you so enjoy your walks, but only you know the correct path." The tarantula, frozen once more, merely peered up at her in silence. She sighed, rolling her exhausted eyes. It hadn't occurred to her that she was speaking to a spider.

"Come now," she ordered, and began to head down the hallway he had chosen, turning to regard him once more while the shadows swallowed her whole. Silly tarantula... If they were to return to their room before the sunrise, he would simply have to keep walking. Sable turned her head, momentarily, however, when she'd heard a sound. A monster? A ghost? Another spider? What could it have been?

[Juniper Azurine]

The dark hallways of the dorm wings, illuminated only by the dim light of the shattered moon, seemed to stretch on forever, an endless maze to fill with whatever horrors the mind could conjure up. If Ghost was awake, June knew he’d be paranoid about what could be lurking at the end of every hall. But he wasn’t awake. In fact, June was completely alone for now, the only one awake at such an hour. The emptiness was odd, a feeling she wasn’t used to. She didn’t like it. She hadn’t even bothered to wake up Nox. It wasn’t like she’d needed the dog for anything at the moment, no nightmares to calm down from, no abrupt panic keeping her up, she was just… awake. Try as she might to fall asleep, she had spent about four hours laying in the dark, memorizing the cracks and textures of the ceiling, before she gave up on sleep all together. So now here she was, wandering aimlessly down the halls, hoping that maybe if she walked around for long enough she’d finally be able to sleep.

June could hear her heart thudding in her chest, the latent, inevitable anxiety of walking around alone in the dark coming to life. Not that there was anything in particular to be afraid of, she knew her father wasn’t here, she knew there was nothing—no rules, no consequences—keeping her from walking around at night. And yet the feeling that she was doing something wrong, that she was somewhere wrong, persisted, brought on only by the fact that she was somewhere at night that wasn’t usually visited at night, a feeling of uncanny, liminal space. Interesting.

By pure habit, she was near-silent as she moved, only the occasional rustle of clothes to indicate there was anyone there at all. She could even hide the alternating sound of her feet, flesh versus metal against the carpet, the difference undetectable as she walked.

It was because of this near-silence that she was able to pick up on the soft scuttle of… something. She paused, head snapping towards the noise, red eyes hunting instinctively for its source. She didn’t have to wait long, however, as soon a voice, much clearer than the scuttling, joined the sound. There was someone talking from around the corner a few yards ahead. And then… was that a fucking spider? June stepped back in surprise, louder than her previously silent gait, not expecting a large, very blue tarantula to come scurrying out into the intersection. Not long after, the owner of the voice, and presumably the tarantula as well, came into view. And if June had thought the uninhabited hallways were uncanny before, seeing a ghost-like girl with spine-like horns walking a goddamn tarantula just enhanced the feeling even more. June summed up the situation as eloquently as always.

“What. The fuck.”

[Sable Citrine]

The sound of a voice caused the girl's head to snap quickly around, a soft gasp emanating from her lips, her eyes driven wide by a sudden fear, and she froze, staring at June, her eyes softly glowing, like radioactive rods in the night. The slightest pitter-patter of something wet dripping to the carpet could be heard, and Peat shuffled back slowly, away from the dark stain that had began to grow to the right of Sable's feet. She looked down briefly, swallowing against her fear as she gazed into a small puddle of inky darkness, and blinked slowly, two points of light vanishing and reappearing momentarily as she willed it to move. The strange liquid ran alongside her shoe for a moment, and then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone.

Those wide eyes gazed back to June, and she tilted her head, the long, curved horns creating a crescent moon in the slight shadow cast behind her from the windows.

"Peat," she said in a monotonic voice, "It seems you and I are not unattended after all." The ghoulish green glow in her eyes faded somewhat, though it was still there, highlighting her pale face against the otherwise black of her wardrobe. The shadows seemed to agree with her, obscuring most of her outline, but when she knelt down, hand extended toward the tarantula, the hazy moonlight that angled its way toward her feet illuminated her somewhat more, revealing the small, thin girl for what she was. Peat, as offput and annoyed as a tarantula could get, scurried into her hand and along her arm. She seemed not to mind it in the slightest, and when he'd settled in against her shoulder, she even stroked him lightly with the tips of her fingers, the barest hint of a smile playing at her lips for nary a second.

"And what, praytell, are you?" Sable asked, her gentle voice quizzical as she looked back to June, "A specter, an apparition? Lost soul, dreaming daylight away whilst stepping 'pon the very hallowed ground you shan't consider home? Lost lamb, taking flight, beguiling tomorrow with the promise of escape?"

[Juniper Azurine]

June couldn’t help stepping back slightly at the sight of the girl’s glowing eyes. That was…not very normal. June was suddenly much more aware of the chill in the hallways than she had been previously, locking her unwavering gaze with this girl’s radioactive eyes. Her attention traveled over the girl, her own natural night vision helping to pick out the girl against the shadows she seemed to be intent on becoming one with. The more she looked, the more it seemed like the girl was some type of ghost, or skeleton. With a petite frame like that, June couldn’t figure out how she didn’t just topple over from the weight of the large horns protruding from her head. Could she stab people with those? June had always been jealous of faunus whose trait gave them extra physical capabilities, her own reptilian horns were far too small for proper combat.

The sound of something dripping caught her attention, her eyes locked to the small, dark puddle growing at the girl’s feet. Blood? But no, it was too dark. She watched it slither around the girl’s feet before disappearing. Definitely weird, definitely not normal. Her semblance? Or did she have a second pet, sentient goo. June wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter, given the girl’s…. everything. The fact she was petting a blue tarantula wasn’t really helping the feeling. June had never been afraid of spiders, her semblance was creating spider webs after all. But she had never thought to own one as a pet. Could tarantulas even be tamed? And why was that one blue? That was… odd.

When the girl spoke, the feeling that had been creeping up and down June’s spine only intensified. She was so monotone, almost robotic but without the electronic twang.

June blinked at the questions directed at her. Then blinked again, because, what? She didn’t even have Light with her—master of confusing wordplay fuckery that he was—to decode what the fuck she had just heard. And sure, June herself was a fan of talking circles around people just to piss them off, but this chick was on a whole different level. Was she trying to piss her off?

“I’m June,” she said flatly. Then, with narrowing eyes, “I have every right to be here, same as you, so if you have a problem with that, you can fuck right off.”

[Sable Citrine]

The strange girl lifted her eyebrows at the immediate promptness that June had addressed her with, though the corner of her mouth tugged up again slightly, for a moment. Only a moment. She drew her gaze up and down the other student, studying her quietly for a couple of seconds, before she leaned forward slightly.

"Sable," she stated matter-of-factly, using one thin-fingered hand to gesture to herself. Then, she did smile, though it was the sort of smile which remained on her lips, never quite reaching her eyes. Her eyebrows flattened a moment later, but the smile lingered. June probably didn't know, but a name always helped the beetle better adjust to a person. Made them less of an... Unknown factor.

"I've no intention of removing you from these halls. On the contrary, their freedom is indeed inviting. So empty, quiet... Peaceful." Her tone grew a bit lighter from here, less flat, a bit more 'normal'. But still soft enough that, had they been speaking during the day, it might've been difficult to hear her. Here, in the empty halls, though, it wasn't too hard.

"Well then, June, to what cause do you give yourself to tonight? While most lie sleeping in their beds, the two of us cross paths in the darkness. Do you not have other engagements? Ah, but where are my manners? Allow me to answer this inquiry first. I'm merely taking Peat here for a walk. Tarantula's locomotive capabilities are entirely dependent upon proper circulation, you see, and without his exercise, he may grow lame and uncouth, t'would not be becoming of one of his noble species." While she spoke about the tarantula, her eyes shifted down to look at him where he sat clinging to the front of her upper arm, continuing to gently stroke his soft bristles. He was a pretty fluffy little guy. Her eyes turned back upward to June, though, her expression expectant, waiting on her answer.

Peat, on the other hand, rubbed his pedipalps together, preferring to let the adults talk.

[Juniper Azurine]

June leaned back as the girl leaned forward, keeping the distance between them the same. She shifted uncomfortably under the girl’s overtly scrutinizing gaze, suddenly far too aware that she was currently in nothing but black shorts and a ratty grey t-shirt that just brushed the middle of her thighs—hole-peppered with a shredded collar, making it fall slightly off one shoulder. At least the shirt the baggy and shapeless enough. Her attention fluttered briefly towards the windows, scanning, but finding nothing but her own muted reflection and the clear indication that she was several stories above the ground with nothing nearby to get up to that level, she focused back on the girl.

The girl’s—Sable, she had said?—words were far more clear this time, and June felt herself relax slightly at the clear statement that she wasn’t being told to leave. Why couldn’t this chick just say that in the first place? What was the purpose of her cryptic bullshit?
The spider’s name was Peat. And he really was her pet. Fuckin…okay. Weird.

She did have to admit though, that the color of the spider want honestly quite interesting; she’d always been partial to the color blue, maybe because of her hair, maybe because she grew up in Atlas’s white and blue environment.
Fuck, she should probably answer, shouldn’t she?

She sighed slowly, one hand coming up to pick at her chapped lips. “I’m just… around,” she answered. Great job there. She really didn’t have much reason for being out at this, other than boredom and a futile attempt at tiring herself out to finally fall asleep. Honestly, if this kept up she was totally making Bug do everything tomorrow so she could nap all day.

“Is there a reason you own a tarantula or are you just weird?” She really couldn’t stop staring at it. It was just so blue so right there and why did this chick even own a tarantula? The only pet June had ever had was a tundra mouse that wandered into her family’s courtyard occasionally when she was 7. That hadn’t lasted long, her father had found the mouse and, well, June found out the hard way that tundra mice don’t taste that great.

[Sable Citrine]

For all the students she'd run into this late at night, though it wasn't often, there was something she found intriguing about this one. Something about her, something... within her. She could almost feel it. It made the question she asked all the more humorous to Sable, who let out a soft, rolling little chuckle while she turned her attention back to Peat for a moment.

"That word you used there... That's the wrong one. I'm not weird. I am strange. Mark the difference, June, for it's an important distinction," she said, and gently guided her hand underneath a couple of Peat's legs, he seemed to get the idea, or perhaps was annoyed by the ground suddenly becoming uneven, and crawled onto her palm.

"But to say I own Peat is incorrect further; I do not own him, any more than he owns me. We simply... Coexist. I found him when I was just a girl, out in the woods. He likes bugs about as much as I do. Only to him, they are more akin to a snack than a curiosity. We Faunus can learn a lot from such creatures. He took a liking to me, same as I to him. Beautiful, isn't he?" She held out her hand, offering the large, fuzzy spider to June for a closer inspection. Even though it was dim in here, their eyesight was adequate. The beams of moonlight coming from the window helped, too.

"His species is mostly nocturnal, so you could say we have a thing or two in common. Not unlike you and I, perhaps?" She kept him there for a moment longer, before retracting her hand, carefully maneuvering it between her horns so that Peat could crawl in between them and settle down again. Aside from a little bit of shifting, he was mostly stationary, it seemed.

"Can't sleep, same as me." June didn't have to admit it for Sable to know she was right. Her power of deduction was keen, though it was simple process of elimination. She hadn't left, so she wasn't leaving; she wasn't sleeping, because she couldn't sleep. Easy enough to understand.

[Juniper Azurine]

“Really? What’s the difference?” June scoffed at Sable’s distinction between weird and strange. She didn’t particularly care for the difference, this girl was a freak either way as far as she was concerned. And “co-existing” with a spider really wasn’t helping anything.

She sighed again, wishing she had something to do with her hands. “He’s a nice color,” she admitted eventually. Sort of the same color as her hair, she briefly entertained the thought of if the spider could camouflage in her hair. She could probably test that. She didn’t think anyone else had a strong dislike for spiders—except maybe Nima—but either way everyone else was asleep right now, so really, they weren’t around to notice or protest if she let the tarantula crawl on her. She could totally let the tarantula crawl on her.

The words “can I hold it?” were out of her mouth before she could stop herself.

[Sable Citrine]

The beetle girl lifted an eyebrow, her head tilting almost imperceptibly to the side when June responded to her, as if she was confused by her question. Peat turned around, seeming to look at her too, though in reality he had just been uncomfortable.

"I agree. Peat is a lovely shade of cerulean what isn't matched easily. A wondrous creature. He enjoys these walks," she stated with such certainty one might assume she could somehow communicate with tarantulas. The suggestion that came next though surprised her even more, for Sable couldn't remember a time in which somebody had asked to hold Peat. Most people just cringed when they saw him and retreated before even making contact.

"I'll ask him," she said, and turned her head to the side, awkwardly pulling her head back so she could see him where he was on her shoulder, her large horns seeming a burden on her neck.

"What do you think, Peat? Would you like to play with this kind lady?" The tarantula said nothing, did nothing, and yet Sable smiled, and carefully slipped her hand underneath him again, extending him out in her palm back toward June.

"I don't think he'll mind. Simply hold out your hand, flat, and he shall enter. He's very well-behaved."

[Juniper Azurine]

Yeah okay, talking to the tarantula like it understood her was doing absolutely nothing to make Sable seem any less like a freak. But if June got to hold a spider, she could go along with whatever the fuck was going on with this weird girl.

June closed the gap between them with a single stride, carefully reaching out her right arm so her metal hand was nearly brushing Sable’s. She watched as the spider crawled hesitantly onto her metal palm, then up to her wrist. Goosebumps rose along her skin at the feeling the spider’s prickly limbs against her skin. This was why she had offered her right arm specifically, a lot less metal, a much better chance of actually feeling the spider crawl on her.

“You said you found him when you were young, how long ago was that?” She asked, question discernable by words alone, as her tone remained quiet and monotonous, almost bored.