sweetlitz

eita

Like to imagine people walking up to Laudna writing her grocery list sat down on a stump to ask her where Imogen is because they have a question for her and Laudna. Looking up & behind them to Imogen's crackling hovering body that's emitting a low but steady hum of the infinitely layered profane whispers of the abyss & giving off ultraviolet light like a halogen bulb, level with the sun, and saying She's busy right now

Then I like to imagine Imogen packing her satchel on the bed of an inn when someone knocks and comes in with Laudna's cut of their last payment and holds it out to her uncertainly because Laudna is in her form of dread with black eyes that may or may not be focusing on the coin purse, 8ft tall hunched and a dozen snapping twig fingers on each hand that keep growing and dripping ichor from her rotting bark down onto the windowsill where she is trying to convince a big spider to stop trying to climb back inside the doll house and getting frustrated she can't make it understand that it does not want a free trip to Jrusar by groaning a cacophony of pitches like a dark forest in a windstorm and. Imogen says Thanks, I will give it to her later.