ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ɪs ʙᴜɪʟᴛ ʙʏ ᴋɪʟʟᴇʀs

[dogmeats]

Who: Sandor Clegane & You
What: a catch-all — ft. open mini-event top level
When: the month of October
Where: around Milton

Content Warnings: profane language, violence, period-fantasy typical ignorant bullshit likely, possible mentions of child death and assault (from Gregor)

sᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ɢᴇᴛ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

Comments

[dogmeats]

( Though Sandor does not turn, does not glance, it's clear by his lack of reaction that he'd sensed Levi's deliberately telegraphed approach. Were it a complete stranger, he'd have likely turned to clock them, scope them for weapons, gauge whether or not they were a threat.

But he knows this one. The likelihood of a man intent on healing him turning around and attacking him unprompted later is low. Pointless, wouldn't make sense. If he were inclined to make a move, he'd have done it while Sandor's leg was still fucked all to shit.

Hardly a beat passes between Levi's observation and Sandor's flat retort of: )

Fuck off.

( It's intended as a rebuttal over constipated, rather than as an order to actually leave — though he doesn't bother making that clear in the few contemplative seconds that follow it before he speaks again. )

What d'you know about this shithole?

[wingbound]

[ Likewise, the coarse greeting receives no particular reaction from Levi in return, the swearwords rolling off of him like water from a duck. He did set the tone with his own introduction, after all. He simply waits a few moments longer for some sort of an elaboration -- and does receive one. ]

[ There's a guess to be made whether the man is talking about this world in general, Milton, or this particular burnt house he's staring at. The gut feeling tells Levi it's the latter, unfortunately that just happens to be the topic he knows the least about. ]

Not much. It used to be a normal town, though. With normal people. The first of us that got here, they... found a lot of bodies to bury.