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singillatim2024-09-09 11:48 pm
singmod) wrote in singillatim2024-09-09 11:48 pm
Entry tags:
- *event,
- arthur lester: maniette,
- benton fraser: lorna,
- billy prior: karen,
- casper darling: mimi,
- charles rowland: giz,
- chloe frazer: tess,
- cornelius hickey: kates,
- daisy johnson: amy,
- edward little: jhey,
- eren jaeger: lyn,
- francis crozier: gels,
- illarion: lark,
- james fitzjames: ami,
- jane margolis: amber,
- john irving: gabbie,
- kate marsh: cheryl,
- kieren walker: cheryl,
- konstantin veshnyakov: jhey,
- lalo salamanca: amber,
- levi ackerman: dem,
- levi jordan: cirape,
- louis de pointe du lac: tea,
- michonne grimes: cloude,
- ragnar lothbrok: lily,
- randvi: tess,
- reiner braun: kas,
- sameen shaw: iddy,
- sandor clegane: em,
- scratch: laus,
- snow white: carly,
- tim drake: fox,
- trixie: gels,
- vasiliy ardakin: yasmine,
- wynonna earp: lorna
it must be that old evil spirit
SEPTEMBER 2024 EVENT
PROMPT ONE — PAINFUL REMINDERS: An Aurora briefly connects the Interlopers to their homeworlds, and with it are able to receive items from home — but these ones will bring no comfort to them.
PROMPT TWO — THE ENEMY WITHIN: Strange and familiar occurrences begin in Milton and Lakeside, growing in frequency and danger for the Interlopers. Who can truly be trusted among their numbers?
PROMPT THREE — BAD BLOOD: The Forest Fighters finally come to Milton, and with it: they bring the yawning grave.
PAINFUL REMINDERS
WHEN: 5th - 9th of September.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: potentially upsetting themes; themes of loneliness/isolation.
For many, the sight of the Aurora is now one they have become used to. There have been plenty of them over the year that has passed since the Interlopers first came to the Northern Territories. Often, they have been a sign of great danger, with plenty of unsettling and unnatural things happening when the skies light up. Other times they have been the herald of aid — a link between Interlopers and Enola, gifting them with abilities to help them survive in this world. There is no real knowing what kind of force the Aurora is, truly. And there is a tension that holds amongst the Interlopers as the day turns to night and there is the soft sound that grows louder.
The ethereal, high-pitched chorus of sounds, is difficult to place. Perhaps it sounds like voices, or discordant strings. And with it, the low-drone of electrical buzz — punctuated with the echoing pops and sharp cracks. The sky is alive with sound, and with it comes the swirling streaking of colour against the inky black of night, growing brighter and brighter as time goes on — greens, blues, pinks and purples shifting and dancing across the night. And much like every Aurora before this one, the electricals of the world come to life too. Homes, streetlamps, cars long-stranded in the snow. Man’s world comes alive, buzzing and flickering precariously.
But there are no ghosts like there once was a year ago. No terrible weather, no poisonous fog. If one could call it a ‘normal’ Aurora, that’s what it appears to be. But there is something else in amongst all the light and noise. Snatches of things: whispers of conversations, names called, laughter and tears.
You realise you recognise these voices. They are the voices of home. Perhaps you hear your mother, your siblings or friends. Whoever they are, you can hear them. And although they might not be able to hear you — for one brief night, the Aurora has connected you, bridged the gap between your world and this one. You may sit for a while, simply listening to the voices, relishing in hearing those from back home. If others join you, you will find yourself compelled to speak of them: to share in stories about those from back home — the connections you share with them.
It’s strange, though. These voices do not fill you with comfort or joy. Instead you are left with feelings of sadness, anger, and isolation. The Aurora has connected Interlopers, but now you feel so cut off from home, cut off from friends and loved ones — reminded of everything left behind. Everything you long for. Everything you have lost.
Something strange skips through the sky, a warping of the sound. It’s unsettling. Something feels... wrong, somehow.
It’s not just the voices that will remind you of this. Something else comes through the Aurora after that night. A small token will be brought through. Whatever the item may be, when you go to sleep and next wake, you will find said item. It may be placed on your bedside, on your desk or dining room table.
The item, you will find, will bring you a reminder of pain. Of sadness. Of horror. Perhaps it’s something you haven’t thought of in some time. Maybe it is something that has lingered in the back of your mind. Perhaps it is a part of you, waiting to be uncovered. A sign of something to come. A painful reminder of your past, or an ominous omen of your future.
THE ENEMY WITHIN
WHEN: The month of September.
WHERE: Everywhere.
CONTENT WARNINGS: kidnapping/attempted kidnapping; attempted murder; murder; vandalism; arson; assault; animal mutilation; corpse mutilation/manipulation/desecration; themes of peril/terror; possible character/npc injuries; possible character/npc death.
It starts with strange happenings at night, things left to be found by the next morning. Those within Lakeside many find themselves unsurprised by it, given their location, but the scenes found in Milton are a foreboding sight.
Mutilated bodies of animals: rabbits, ptarmigans, even deer — mangled and strewn about the streets, blood upon the snow. Some may awaken in the middle of the night to the sounds of their windows breaking, with houses on the Outskirts being targeted more than those in the middle of town. There is… a kind of unrest in the world.
It escalates.
Some may leave their home for the day and return in the evening to find the place trashed: items broken, precious foodstuffs thrown about the place and destroyed. Those within the Outskirts are once again particularly vulnerable, as are those within Lakeside. Fires are started in some of the abandoned buildings of Milton. Something, someone is targeting the Interlopers.
It is hard to pin-point who exactly, and it only puts the Interlopers on high alert. Nothing like this has never happened before. This is new, especially in Milton.
As the month progresses, the acts become more serious. Fires may be started in the middle of the night in Interlopers’ homes while they sleep. Some are attacked in the night, others are taken from their beds. Some killed within their very homes. Of the Interlopers that go missing, their mutilated remains may be found days later out in the wilds.
In Milton, soon enough, someone is bold enough to come out from the darkness, out from the gloom of the night. Interlopers may be attacked in broad daylight — by those they may recognise as newer Interlopers of the community, who appeared from the wilds: lost and shivering, with nowhere else to go. Some of them have been within Milton for a few months now.
Those in Lakeside will face something similar: Forest Talkers are making a move, rogue and isolated incidents — done with sabotaging attempts at hunting and taking a more direct approach.
They have no qualms about being captured or killed, only determined to get rid of as many of the Interlopers as they can. They whisper, they scream: “You don’t belong here. You should never have come here. It wants you gone, it wants us all gone. The end is here, it’s too late for any of us. Nature must run its course. The yawning grave has been opened.”
The attack is on two fronts: the first of Forest Talkers in Lakeside amplifying their actions. The second in Milton, enemies within the ranks of the Interlopers, Forest Talkers hiding as Interlopers.
Within Milton, newer Interlopers will likely be met with suspicion as being some of the Forest Fighters as a result of these individual acts of violence. As the numbers of Milton have been infiltrated, and it’s easy to have mistrust amongst those newer to the community. In-fighting is likely, and the entire town is stuck in some terrible, tense state — unsure of who to trust within their own numbers. In the days and weeks that follow, it remains like this. Acts of violence and vandalism — chaos and disorder.
BAD BLOOD
WHEN: The night of 27th - 28th September.
WHERE: Milton.
CONTENT WARNINGS: attempted murder; murder; vandalism; arson; assault; mentions of blood; themes of peril/terror; possible character/npc injuries; possible character death/npc death; actual NPC death.
Towards the end of the month, the moon is full. They call it the Harvest Moon, but colour seeps into it — oranges and reds: a blood moon, partially eclipsed. The night is calm and cloudless, but there’s an uneasy feeling in the night.
The earth groans, the rumble of another quake that’s plagued the Northern Territories since the beginning of August. It is the only warning Interlopers will get — if they may realise it as a warning. To some, when they look back, it’s a omen, a starting pistol.
They do not come through the Mines. Thanks to the efforts of Interlopers to guard the entrances of the Milton Mines, they know better. They come to town from the south, not the north.
The quakes of August and September have opened a new way from Lakeside to Milton. They are led by their Leader: a man dressed in white, a large deer skull upon his head. And while their numbers are small in comparison, they come armed and with the determination to get rid of the Interlopers once and for all. As they come into town, they launch their attack.
More fires will be set, Interlopers will be attacked with abandon. Shot at, stabbed, beaten. It is a mass execution. They will not stop until the Interlopers, or them, are dead.
Well, the majority of them. There are just under a dozen teenagers and younger people amongst their ranks who have shown hesitance toward violence in the past. Perhaps they can be reasoned with. Perhaps there may be a way to convince them to abandon their cause. There is fear in their eyes. Some of them do not want to die. They fear the yawning grave.
What will do you then, Interloper? Are you willing to fight for your life? Are you willing to take another’s to save your own, or a friends? Will you hide, or run? What choice will you make? The Forest Talkers have long since made their own choice. Now you must make yours.
It is another night of chaos on a town already scarred by the events of June. Interlopers will note two familiar faces in the fray: at some point during the night both Methuselah and Young Bill will arrive. While Methuselah will concentrate on aiding the wounded and trying to shelter Interlopers the best he can, Young Bill will help protect Interlopers from the Forest Talkers with his rifle in hand. But fortunately, it is just for one single night. Ammunition runs out, sides are switched, and people are killed. As dawn approaches, Forest Talker numbers dwindle. Either killed, incapacitated or defected. In the early morning light, bodies lie in the snow both Interloper and Forest Talker alike.
Those trying to hunt down the leader will see him slipping inside an empty cabin, heavily wounded. Following after him, they will find him settling himself down to kneel on the floor. The white of his tactical gear stained red with blood as it blooms from his wounds. Slowly, he removes the deer skull from his head to reveal a clean-shaven man in his late twenties with a shock of white-blond hair. His eyes are blue, calm.
He sets the skull down, panting and sweating. He is dying. He is not afraid.
“My name is Mallory, not that it matters now. We are dead, you and I.” he says softly. “We exist in a dying world.”
He is in much pain from his wounds. He moves again to sit cross-legged on the floor. A hand touches the bloodied fabric of his front and he laughs humourlessly.
“You don’t understand, do you? The end must come. That is the order of things. The end must come so the world can be reborn. That is how it’s always worked. When the world is swallowed, it will grow again from the earth.”
It is a story. The story of the Darkwalker. Some believe it to be the end of the world, but Young Bill had once said there is another telling of the tale. A creation myth. The Darkwalker swallows the world and returns to its slumber within the earth. Within it, everything its swallowed grows again and the world returns.
“We fought against man’s actions to ruin this place, not knowing our true purpose. The Devourer has shown me the truth, and I sought to put that into action.” His head tilts to one side. “The yawning grave is opened. Does new life not grow from the decay? It is a cycle. The grave and the cradle.”
He finds it difficult to breathe, but he presses on.
“You fight to live. You come here and you do not see what you are. You are only delaying the inevitable, perverting the true course. Prolonging the suffering. You are the Interlopers, you are not part of nature’s design. The Darkwalker does not want you here. And where it fails, we have tried to succeed.”
There’s another laugh, something catching in his throat. He coughs, blood bubbling from his lips.
“And failed. For now. The First Cursed cannot hold it forever. She, too, delays the inevitable." Even as he is dying, he still have the energy to sneer. He speaks of Enola. "A woman who plays at being a god. What right does she have? All must go into the Long Dark. ... As will I. Return me to the grave.”
Mallory’s head dips, his body sagging. He inhales once more and then stops.
FAQs
1. Players must sign up for items. See the toplevel on the plotting post.
2. Items will face the same warps/nerfs as everything else that is brought into the game.
3. Items can be no bigger than something your character can reasonably carry.
4. While items do not have to belong to your character, there has to be a good reason why they’d receive such an item — ie. something related to your character.
1. The Forest Talkers within Milton are a number of NPCs that have been pre-selected from NPCs who arrived in April and August. Not all of them will show their true intentions as the month goes on but will continue to stay hidden.
2. Two NPCs killed in the June Event were also Forest Talkers. … Good… job?
3. The following NPC Interlopers will out themselves as Forest Talkers at this stage: Devon Busswood; Rita Yee; Realm Lovejoy.
1. Following the events of this prompt, Interlopers now have an additional way into Lakeside. It’s still rather dangerous: it’s through a partially collapsed cave system that ends into abandoned bunker on the Lakeside side. The game map will be marked accordingly in due course.
2. Some Interlopers may recognise a familiar face in the Forest Talker ranks: the man who was kidnapped by Interlopers previously in July has returned. Looks like he made good on his promise. He's come back to cause problems.
3. The following NPC Interlopers will out themselves as Forest Talkers during the attack: Jackie Blackmore; Ross Huguet; Jennifer Kitchen; Daniel Kresco.
4. As a reminder of numbers: around fifty Forest Talkers will show up for the attack.
5. There is an OOC vote on the fate of the remaining Forest Talkers, the link is here.
Ragnar Lothbrok | Vikings | OTA
[ cw: death of a child, religion, murder ]
a. Aurora
[ The sight of the Aurora brings Ragnar yet another piece of home that he's familiar with and not in a good way. When he turns his eyes to the night sky to watch the flicker and dancing of colours and lights, it isn't joy that he gets from it and he's reminded of what the phenomenon means to him because it brings bad luck.
Feeling uneasy, Ragnar retreats back to the Community Hall and sits in his usual spot at the fire place when odd things start to happen; lights begin to glow brightly and unusual sounds are heard and he can't help but get up and investigate. ]
b. Voices & Receiving Something From Home
[ Ragnar, after falling asleep in his chair, wakes to the sound of a nearby giggle, soft and recognizable -- a young girl's laugh. His eyes open wide and abruptly and he turns his head in the direction of the voice, blinking fiercely. She calls out to him, further away and he chases it outside. ]
Where are you, my daughter? [ Ragnar calls out, voice faltering. Wondering if he is going mad since he realizes he sounds very much like he is. ] My beautiful, Gyda.
[ As jarring as it had been hearing his dead daughter, it's a certain piece of jewelry that takes Ragnar by surprise when he wakes up a couple days later. With it, comes an overwhelming sense of foreboding dread and a feeling of inconsolable sadness that leaves the Viking vibrating with anger that he is there, stranded and unable to get back to protect his priest from Whatever Evil is threatening.
Ragnar holds the cross in his hand, his jaw twitching and his blue eyes more vivid than ever while he quietly mumbles to himself: ]
I will find a way back. I must get back.
ᚢᛁᚾᛦ : ᛁᚾ
[ Things around Milton are getting more and more tense and it is only feeding into the anger that Ragnar feels about being so helpless in knowing how to get back to his world and his people. But everything going on around him serves more as an unwanted distraction from doing that.
So, he helps people he doesn't know instead, where he can and whenever he happens to be somewhere when it's needed. And until then, he keeps on rummaging through abandoned places, waiting to find anything that will help him leave, or hear a voice asking for help. ]
Who is there?
ᛁᛚᛦ : ᛒᛚᚢᛏ
[ cw: violence, blood, death (not his) ]
[ When the attacks start happening, Ragnar is ready. Though he doesn't jump into the fray until there's a personal reason to do so. He doesn't know many people, but he knows who he will aid if he sees the attackers going after.
At some point, after using his axe to defend himself and wearing the blood of their enemy all over his face, Ragnar hears a loud pop of sound before feeling something hit his chest hard. He thinks it's an arrow but there was no arrow shaft sticking out of him. There was, however, blood and a lot of it.
Ragnar slips and lands on a knee, suddenly dizzy and breathless, looking at his blood soaked hand. ]
no subject
[ Levi knows he needs to reach a defensible position of some sort, but it's pretty damn hard with hell unleashed around them. Twice now he's forced to make a detour because someone finds him behind cover, and this last spot he takes, between a broken fence in front of a house and the ruins of a contraption that looks vaguely like an "automobile", isn't much better. He's assessing his path into the building when some shots are fired closer than the rest of the current chaos, and it draws his attention. ]
[ He ducks, instinctively, and peers through the space between the fence planks. He sees a man nearby, an Interloper he recognizes, seemingly victorious -- a bloodied body or few strewn around him -- and he sees another person further away. Someone he doesn't know, with a rifle in a position mirroring his own, just across the street, taking aim at the lone figure between them. ]
[ Faster than he can really think, he lodges his own rifle between the fenceposts and pulls the trigger; the Forest Talker falls backwards. ]
These assholes have guns. Take cover!
[ It's... probably not the best idea to raise his voice, lest it draws someone else's attention to him, but he's not going to watch one of their own get riddled with bullets if he can help it. ]
no subject
Rather than get to a spot where it's safer, Ragnar twists around, looking for the face of the voice, who doesn't sound familiar due to the urgency and volume Levi is using in his warning. ]
Gun? What is a gun?
[ There! He sees him now and makes his way over, eyes widening when he sees the rifle in Levi's grip.
For someone being shot at, he's less interested in other threats that might do the same and more intrigued at this weapon. ]
no subject
[ Levi motions the other man over when he thinks he's taking too long to gather his bearings, and watches the street like a hawk while he approaches. Luckily, it doesn't seem like anybody else is there to shoot at him, yet, and he breathes a sigh of relief once Ragnar finally reaches cover, though he's somewhat taken aback by the curiosity. ]
[ Only a little bit, though. Hardly the first time he runs with someone who has all the wrong priorities, and the apparent glint of fascination placates him. ]
It's a weapon. Good if you want to put a hole in someone at range.
[ He shifts a little to allow Ragnar a better look at the rifle, but doesn't quite let go of it, still wary of anyone else coming this way. ]
...We should find someplace easier to defend.
no subject
He nods and looks for somewhere, though since Levi has been here longer, he finds himself trusting the other to lead them. ]
Lead, I will follow you.
no subject
...Right.
[ It's a bit awkward, to lead someone in this place where Levi is quite sure he's disregarded at best and distrusted at worst. But he's been in the military much longer than he's been in Milton, so it's nothing if not easy to fall back on it. ]
[ He nods, motions at the other man to follow him and sets off in the direction of the community hall. It is perhaps less of a convenient target to protect and more a necessary one, but it's all the same; they should at least try to keep the Forest Talkers from raiding it, especially knowing there may be vulnerable people sheltering inside. ]
[ It will take a bit to get there, however, especially with the chaotic fighting all over the place. Levi moves crouched closer to the ground, trying to keep under cover of fences and run down vehicles, but they make it maybe halfway to their destination when another bullet hits the pavement in front of Levi's feet and he ducks behind a tree on reflex, peeking out from behind the rifle as he scans their surroundings for the attackers. ]
[ There's a small group of them in a yard across the street; some seem to be fighting other Interlopers, but two are keeping their distance, seemingly on lookout, and one has their weapon lifted, ready to shoot again. Levi mutters a curse and takes aim, hoping to get them sooner than they do. ]
ᛁᛚᛦ : ᛒᛚᚢᛏ
She can totally do this. She's got this.
Kate makes her way to the Community Hall, she figures the injured may be taken there. It makes sense, right? So she's heading that way, carefully picking her way between buildings, keeping out of sight — flare gun on her hip and the pistol Tim had pressed into her hands in her satchel. She doesn't want to use it, she hopes she doesn't.
The sound of gunshot makes her jump, but the quite afterwards is far more scary. Kate sees the man drop to one knee from where she hides in the dark, waiting for the coast to clear before she hurries out to him. She needs to get him inside, the Community Hall isn't far off. ]
Can you stand? [ Her voice is low, urgent. ] You need to try, we gotta get you inside.
[ She's small, but she can try to help him move. ]
no subject
It's after another set of bullet whiz past them, that it's enough to break through the din of action and confusion and prompt the Viking to get up and move under pure adrenaline. He stands, though it's more huddled and he stumbles along beside her until they reach the doors of the Community Hall. ]
Why does it .... hurt more than arrows?
no subject
Into the Community Hall, she helps him to a cot. She doesn't know the answer as to why it hurts more. She couldn't say, she's never been shot before with an arrow or a bullet (and hopefully never will be). ]
Guns suck. [ Is the only answer she can give. ] But it's okay, you're gonna be okay—
[ She's not sure if it's more to convince him or herself, at this point. But even as her hands shake, she's working quickly to pull at his clothing to get to the wound, checking to see if the bullet went all the way through or not. She's got to fix this, she has to. ]
Just— just breathe deeply for me, okay?
no subject
Ragnar sucks in a breath, managing the pain as best he can, even while the burn spreads through into his back and down the length of his arm and into his fingers, of which one is currently plugging the wound. It's only when the woman is able to get to it that he moves it away, causing the blood to flow out of him like a river. She may notice the other scarring across his chest, and if she doesn't she no doubt will see the glint of a gold cross laying against the hollow of his throat. ]
A gun... I do not even know what that is.
[ He lets out a weak grunt, trying to see his injury before his head falls back. Ragnar reaches out and grasps her forearm. ]
I cannot die. Not here. I must be able to return home.
no subject
You're not going to die. [ She's firm with that. He's not. She knows he won't. All she needs to do is the exact same thing as she'd done with Lieutenant Little. She has to move quickly. ] I have you, God has you.
[ She takes a steadying breath and closes her eyes. She recites under her breath a Psalm: They cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He sent out his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave. Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for mankind. Let them sacrifice thank offerings and tell of his works with songs of joy.
It's a slow process, but she feels it working — her face screwing up in pain. It feels like something piercing through her chest but in slow motion and she has to grit her teeth together to stop herself from crying out — a long, pained cry escaping her. It hurts to breathe, everything hurts. But she keeps it going. She has to. Slowly, he'll feel the pain of the wound lessen: muscle and flesh mending itself under her palms.
She feels something shift against her fingers. Something small and Sweat glistens on her forehead, her face pale with the pain and she looks about ready to pass out as she pulls her hands away. Kate staggers back a few steps from the cot and collapsing to sit on the one opposite, slumping forwards — panting through the pain. She doesn't know what to do with it, she's never felt pain like it. She thinks she's going to die. She thinks she's going to throw up.
Cradled in her shaking bloodied hands, the fragment of bullet. She remembers Enola's words: Never again. ]
no subject
All at once, everything started to recede. The pain. The panic. The blood. Suddenly, everything was quiet and all Ragnar could hear was the breathlessness of a woman sitting across from him. Who saved him.
Eyes close in a prolonged blink and after opening them again, he rolls to the side and sits up. Ragnar looks to her in shock, then to the bloodied silver piece in her hand while his own presses to the fully healed wound on his chest. ]
How is this possible?
cw: emeto
[ Her head ducks, and she's taking long and deep breaths to try and fight through the nausea and pain. In through her nose and out through her mouth. She did it. Just like with Lieutenant Little. The man's still alive. He'll be okay.
It makes the pain worth it, even if it makes her stomach churn. Which— she's looking a little green around the gills, as the Navy sorts would say. ]
Can... uh, can you get me a bucket or something— I think I'm gonna, um. Be sick.
Re: cw: emeto
When he moves, he's surprised at how normal he feels, and yet, the blood still dripping fresh from his tunic and breeches. Luckily, there is a bucket nearby and he empties it and brings it over, setting it in front of her.
Ragnar lowers to the side of her. Someone retching isn't the worst thing he's ever seen or smelled. ]
cw: emeto (again, sorry)
... Thanks. [ She swallows thickly and takes a few deep breaths to try and steady herself but— God, she's never felt pain like this. Is this what being shot feels like? ]
You okay? How's it feel now?
aurora
This happens every time there is an aurora. I irritated everyone when I used to live here because I liked to light the lamps at night just to look at them.
The library has a mechanism that reads music from these strange discs, and the books…
Re: aurora
He squints one eye at her curiously, though it turns into a half smile when he sees who it is. ]
I would like you to show me this strange mechanism that plays music without instruments and people. But yes, the lamps that light up without flame are very curious.
[ He pauses, his expression slipping to something more serious. ]
When the sky fills with colours, does it not worry you of what is to come?
no subject
[Some of the discs even play the memory of the crowd cheering…]
I am worried about what is to come here always, no matter the colour of the sky. This place hates us and will not stop until we are dead or ejected.
no subject
I plan to find a way back. I will not die here.
[ There's certainty in his voice; it carries a promise with it. ]
no subject
[If she knew exactly which Ragnar he was, perhaps she would not encourage him to pursue it.]
no subject
I have sons I must teach, and land to reclaim but instead I am here, learning about advances and mysterious inventions that can play music without people and instruments. Surely there's at least one reason why you and I have come here.
no subject
[Hopefully they will have no cause to learn.]
You have sons at home? You must miss them.
cw: child death
I have many. Five to be exact.
[ A weighted pause. ]
But it is my daughter I miss the most and I heard her voice earlier today. How funny, since she is with the gods.
Re: cw: child death
[Losing loved ones is always difficult, but the loss of a child is uniquely painful.]
How old was she?
(no subject)
(no subject)
ᚢᛁᚾᛦ : ᛁᚾ
But she's not being especially discreet, so she's pretty loud rumbling around. Jane perks up at the sound of the voice, trying to get her heart to stop pounding. ]
Me... [ She stands up from where she was hiding behind one of the shelves, raising a hand, but she looks wary, uncertain. When she sees the guy who was calling, her eyes go wide. Holy shit. He doesn't look aggressive, but he's jacked.
Jane is immediately on the defensive, but also trying not to antagonize him. ] Who are you?