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01-02-2017, 11:25 PM
It made my whole skin itch to leave the Edge, but it ain’t like I was doing much by myself to hold the fort down; if anything went down we were fucked anyways, and besides, it was good to know what was going on and being said anyway. So me ‘n Cheek went when we were called (ugh) coming to the place where shit was happening, but at least Kisamoa was a nice enough asshole to wait until it was thawing out before making us run errands. I might not know the dude but he’s an honorary bro just for that.
My brow furrowed as I saw Kis (the tall brown assholey one) and Volterra within striking distance, but I also knew her wrath was as dead as her memories of him, so he wasn’t in danger of being killed--just heartbroken, and that made me sad for him, but I had told the big black bastard to stay away and I guess fuck my advice, right? I ain’t mad at him; it’s a hard thing to let go. But it wasn’t a thing I could help him with--so I shrugged and my chest pulled sadly but there was no use dwelling on it. I left him to his ruin.
So anyway there goes Kisamoa (the rad dude) talking some shit about clean up and bones and a land that was killed by disease. My brow furrowed a bit more as he tasked us with collecting bones accumulated around the area and generally performing a police-call. “Just loose bones, right? We ain’t diggin’ up no graves, are we?” He hadn’t specified--and there was a place not too far from here where there were a lot of graves for one, holy reason, but people still worshiped that complication, so. I ‘unno.
I couldn’t shake the sense of unease that clawed my belly whenever I thought about the Dead place, and the sickness that had killed it in the first place; that awful year of disease and darkness and putrid betrayal. I’m glad Cheek was born well after that bullshit.
I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of fuckin’ around with dead things like this; I wondered if we should just let it rest. But I wasn’t sure how hard I should wonder it.
"talk"
My brow furrowed as I saw Kis (the tall brown assholey one) and Volterra within striking distance, but I also knew her wrath was as dead as her memories of him, so he wasn’t in danger of being killed--just heartbroken, and that made me sad for him, but I had told the big black bastard to stay away and I guess fuck my advice, right? I ain’t mad at him; it’s a hard thing to let go. But it wasn’t a thing I could help him with--so I shrugged and my chest pulled sadly but there was no use dwelling on it. I left him to his ruin.
So anyway there goes Kisamoa (the rad dude) talking some shit about clean up and bones and a land that was killed by disease. My brow furrowed a bit more as he tasked us with collecting bones accumulated around the area and generally performing a police-call. “Just loose bones, right? We ain’t diggin’ up no graves, are we?” He hadn’t specified--and there was a place not too far from here where there were a lot of graves for one, holy reason, but people still worshiped that complication, so. I ‘unno.
I couldn’t shake the sense of unease that clawed my belly whenever I thought about the Dead place, and the sickness that had killed it in the first place; that awful year of disease and darkness and putrid betrayal. I’m glad Cheek was born well after that bullshit.
I wasn’t sure if I liked the idea of fuckin’ around with dead things like this; I wondered if we should just let it rest. But I wasn’t sure how hard I should wonder it.
"talk"
Quit Hollerin' "Why God?", he ain't got shit to do with it.
♥♥ kate has it going on
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