#ic answer

HRU BABE GIRLL????

Oh good you're alive

I'm ok, just on my way back to my apartment (someone else got overtime this time, thank arc)

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@sweetbitterbitten // IC Answers to “horrible questions” // Muse: Mary I

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I'm curious, Fritz... what were your thoughts on the Old One's Army?

"Well that hurt" random prompts | 17, stab wound in thigh

An old-looking farmhouse. A trailer. A few outbuildings. It had all looked peaceful in the growing pre-dawn light. Quaint. Welcoming.

Particularly in comparison to the soon-to-be-searing light of day.

Linast hadn’t gone to the door.

Clemcy had practically dropped him on this doorstep and had given no more instruction than telling Linast to introduce himself. Either it was some innocent person that Clemcy wanted intel on, or else it was someone terrible that Clemcy wanted Linast to learn a lesson from, one way or another. It had been four months of this. Linast was fed up with it. He wasn’t going to play this game any more, not if he could help it.

But the dawn had threatened, and so — with an almost wistful thought of Eliza, and the vague hope that this time he might go undetected for at least the day — Linast had broken into a shed instead, ignoring Clemcy’s irritated mental protests. If Clemcy wanted a puppet, Linast reasoned, he’d have one already. If he wanted Linast acting under his own power, well; Linast had no intentions of doing so, just now.

The next thing Linast knew some sort of metal tool was stabbing deep into his thigh, driven by his own hand.

He shrieked in mingled surprise and pain — wrenched it out again and scrambled back on pure instinct, as if he could escape the injury or the improvised weapon or both, and just succeeded in tripping over something with a clatter and crash of disturbed items and a heavier thud as his own body hit the floor. Linast whined, a high, far more breathless sound of pain, and curled around the agony in his leg.