You were a Sunday regular too, then? [She kind of dresses like it, though that might be more her time and place than god-fearing modesty.] I'm at the theatre. Something homey about all the confetti and balloons I suppose.
Nope, he was the Father. Considered a bit of a big name in Prehevil.
And I am his beloathed daughter.
[ she smiles, almost proudly. ]
I'm doing alright, though. Feels kinda homey despite it all. And I've definitely had to sleep in worse places, so I'll consider it a win that nothing's crept up on me yet in the middle of the night, heh.
[Maybe there's a darker bent to that. But Marina looks pleased as punch with herself, and Camille is aware of the satisfaction that comes from wriggling free of an iron grip. She kind of likes this girl.
Which means she should be careful. For both their sakes.]
That sounds pretty ominous. I'm glad we're ranking low on the spook scale so far. It's a pity that we're still marked for a bitter end.
Seems that way, but squirming out of a death grip isn't totally impossible. Granted, the information we've been given leaves a lot to be desired.
[ even still their keepers are just as cagey in private and it makes her insides squirm unhappily. there's a dark, inky spatter that creeps along her ]
I'll take the breather where I can get it that's for sure. But... well. How're you holding up? Funny business aside.
lore slams you bc you know whats up ((spoilers, cw: child murder/violence))
Roommate shake up, huh? You do have quite the gang over there in the theatre... what do you make of 'em -
[ though she does glance at the words, she can't help it. as something slides across her arm, a slowly oozing just like him bleeding through the fabric of her shirt. ]
... Man this needs to stop...
Edited 2024-06-13 12:45 (UTC)
The ways in which dw betrays are myriad and infinite
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You were a Sunday regular too, then? [She kind of dresses like it, though that might be more her time and place than god-fearing modesty.] I'm at the theatre. Something homey about all the confetti and balloons I suppose.
[this is a joke she is not clown-kin]
no subject
... You too? [ hesitant ] My dad, he was kind of obsessed.
[ she does seem to smile a bit at the remark about the theatre. there's maybe a little laugh. ]
It'll be like a party every time you wake up, damn. What a way to start the day. Meanwhile, the goat's watching over all of us while we sleep.
no subject
[she laughs.]
I'm surprised you get any sleep at all. Creepy thing. [Her lips purse.]
You good though? Been faring all right with this mess?
no subject
And I am his beloathed daughter.
[ she smiles, almost proudly. ]
I'm doing alright, though. Feels kinda homey despite it all. And I've definitely had to sleep in worse places, so I'll consider it a win that nothing's crept up on me yet in the middle of the night, heh.
no subject
[Maybe there's a darker bent to that. But Marina looks pleased as punch with herself, and Camille is aware of the satisfaction that comes from wriggling free of an iron grip. She kind of likes this girl.
Which means she should be careful. For both their sakes.]
That sounds pretty ominous. I'm glad we're ranking low on the spook scale so far. It's a pity that we're still marked for a bitter end.
no subject
[ even still their keepers are just as cagey in private and it makes her insides squirm unhappily. there's a dark, inky spatter that creeps along her ]
I'll take the breather where I can get it that's for sure. But... well. How're you holding up? Funny business aside.
lore slams you bc you know whats up ((spoilers, cw: child murder/violence))
[Camille sighs and takes a look around. As she does words coalesce over her leg: You couldn't save either sister.]
I'm getting by. Could do with a bit of a roommate shakeup but it's not the worst set up I've lived in.
eats! it up! also wtf why is this my old tag draft /edits
[ though she does glance at the words, she can't help it. as something slides across her arm, a slowly oozing just like him bleeding through the fabric of her shirt. ]
... Man this needs to stop...
The ways in which dw betrays are myriad and infinite
Sure enough.]
You're telling me. [Shit. Camille could laugh. Can it be any more damning than this?]
Well kid, we could hide out until it all blows over, or see if talking it out will exorcise it. No pressure.
[She doesn't need the details. People should be able to lick their wounds in secrecy, not have the bandages ripped off for show.]
no subject
Exorcism, huh? You think that'd actually work for 'em?
[ patting her blouse gently, she looks uncertain, but she's not turning it down. ]