Jun 19, 2013
Personally, I think red looks good on you, but then I want to see you covered in your own blood, so I might me just a little biased. Still.
…A little biased.
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Personally, I think red looks good on you, but then I want to see you covered in your own blood, so I might me just a little biased. Still.
…A little biased.
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ask-the-well-read-spy replied to your post:
“Oh, but how could I forget about you? You’re just as much my problem as Sniper.” Spy had long since been able to see through the calm voice, he had him scared. “I was just tending to more important matters.”
"I would hardly say eizher of us are a problem to you now, given you are dead." He moved carefully and quietly, one hand guiding him in search of a wall for the sake of his own comfort. Just keep him talking, as long as that eerie voice floated about the room, the darkness was somehow less threatening. "But, I do not suppose you are here looking for me to tell you zhe obvious."
Reynard couldn't remember what it was like to enjoy sleeping, and the night before only made the feeling worse, like a punch to the gut somewhere between terror, illness, and anger. He'd spent the morning and most of the afternoon struggling with reading, whatever supernatural-related books he could get hold of, ghosts and zombies, myths, legends.
It was slow going, requiring some intensive studying of his translation dictionary until his eyes stung and his shoulders slumped tiredly. This wasn't helping. There were all manner of suggestions, curses, and the like, but he was no closer than when he started. Merely more exhausted and frustrated, not helped in the least by his illiteracy.
Why couldn't that fucker just stay dead? Why could he not have just a week of some peace?
Suppressing a yawn, he stretched in his seat until he felt his back pop, then settled back to continue, thumbing idly through dictionary tabs for the next definition needed.