The crime scene had not changed. Reinald watched Fourteen kneel besides the chalk outline, and with her back to them, extent a crooked forearm alongside it, as if measuring the length. None of them spoke as Anna and Reinald left her to it to look over the bullet, burns and teeth, trying to anticipate what sort of mystery was meant to be set up despite them all knowing the ending already.
"Hey, so whenever we've done whatever we're supposed to, we're going to get divided again," Flume said after a time.
"Most likely," Reinald agreed.
"So I guess good luck, if you two go on ahead. And I'm glad we could at least have understood
Reinald hesitated only a moment before he gave Anna a meaningful look and followed her, pressing his teeth together at the heavily implied threats.
"Why are we walking away?" Anna hissed, glaring over her shoulder as a black-furred butler appeared to reshelf their work.
"Because the last time I declined the books prompt to be a monster, it made my friend into one and made us kill him," Fourteen answered. "What is predictable in murder stories?"
Reinald looked to Anna, remembering her horror movie comment. She snorted. "The first person to leave the group gets killed first," she said. "The murdere
Reinald didn't see much use in looking through novels, but then again, he supposed they were in a book, after all.
While he and Anna looked over them Fourteen returned to the small shelves and poked through them. After several minutes, she said, "Did you ever fight a big animal with water?"
" Yeah," he said, looking up. She held a thin volume out to him.
It was illustrated in graceful inks, in the style of an artist mimicking the oriental aesthetic. Frowning, he closed it to read the title. He looked through the pictures, reading a paragraph here and there.
Dmitri and the Guardian with Three Eyes.
He gave it to Anna, who looked j
It was in the library that she felt a potential to get a hold of the crystallizing emotions inside her and try to think rationally. It was of course nothing like anything at home; who grew paper trees in spaceships after all- but she knew what it was, and it was a store of knowledge, and that at least was familiar.
She lifted a hand and trailed it over the spines, feeling their fabric, leather, or cardboard bindings. Her fingertips lingered at the top of one for a moment and then pulled, gently, so it started to come free from among its fellows. Flume watched it, holding it up half out of the shelf, then let her hand fall. The book smack
The new style of the ship was a hokey hybrid of her familiar universe and that of the ones the others had come from, which was nothing new. Flume set her jaw as she stalked through the room, keeping her senses open for any hint that the Book might have an unpleasant development set up for her.
She was going to look for the murderer and solve everything, alright. But if that fucking stack of paper thought it could impress her by killing someone off it had miscalibrated sorely. It would take more than that to get her traipsing along in docile bliss for its stupid stories.
In the dining hall Flume found a table laden with day-old food, evid
Sinclair looked down at Flume, feeling his chest tighten at the crestfallen, lifeless way she moved her limbs as they stepped into the airlock and she reached up to punch in an opening code. They both winced, eyelids narrowing against the sharpness of the sudden sunlight.
Sinclair felt a small sense of gratitude for that brightness; it was healthy and safe and natural, a powerful deterrent against so many of his own monsters. Flume, who had been so moved when she had first found herself upon the surface of a planet and under its glorious sun, was unmoved now. She looked tired down to her molecules, moving with the listless mechanic qualit
"What," Anna said coolly, as she regarded their host, "in the actual nature of fuck."
Transitions, it seemed, were beginning to lose their flavor. Anna had not spoken to Reinald as they threaded through the forest, through the rip, and into this next story. There was no fancy curling of medium this time, just a languid morphing of their clothing and a flicker of some short-lived sense of duty that didn't bother truly fighting to establish itself in their chests.
They were standing under the overhang of a great and splendid Victorian mansion, politely sheltered from the shivering drizzle of rain that blanketed the surroundings well enoug
The crime scene had not changed. Reinald watched Fourteen kneel besides the chalk outline, and with her back to them, extent a crooked forearm alongside it, as if measuring the length. None of them spoke as Anna and Reinald left her to it to look over the bullet, burns and teeth, trying to anticipate what sort of mystery was meant to be set up despite them all knowing the ending already.
"Hey, so whenever we've done whatever we're supposed to, we're going to get divided again," Flume said after a time.
"Most likely," Reinald agreed.
"So I guess good luck, if you two go on ahead. And I'm glad we could at least have understood
Reinald hesitated only a moment before he gave Anna a meaningful look and followed her, pressing his teeth together at the heavily implied threats.
"Why are we walking away?" Anna hissed, glaring over her shoulder as a black-furred butler appeared to reshelf their work.
"Because the last time I declined the books prompt to be a monster, it made my friend into one and made us kill him," Fourteen answered. "What is predictable in murder stories?"
Reinald looked to Anna, remembering her horror movie comment. She snorted. "The first person to leave the group gets killed first," she said. "The murdere
Reinald didn't see much use in looking through novels, but then again, he supposed they were in a book, after all.
While he and Anna looked over them Fourteen returned to the small shelves and poked through them. After several minutes, she said, "Did you ever fight a big animal with water?"
" Yeah," he said, looking up. She held a thin volume out to him.
It was illustrated in graceful inks, in the style of an artist mimicking the oriental aesthetic. Frowning, he closed it to read the title. He looked through the pictures, reading a paragraph here and there.
Dmitri and the Guardian with Three Eyes.
He gave it to Anna, who looked j
It was in the library that she felt a potential to get a hold of the crystallizing emotions inside her and try to think rationally. It was of course nothing like anything at home; who grew paper trees in spaceships after all- but she knew what it was, and it was a store of knowledge, and that at least was familiar.
She lifted a hand and trailed it over the spines, feeling their fabric, leather, or cardboard bindings. Her fingertips lingered at the top of one for a moment and then pulled, gently, so it started to come free from among its fellows. Flume watched it, holding it up half out of the shelf, then let her hand fall. The book smack
The new style of the ship was a hokey hybrid of her familiar universe and that of the ones the others had come from, which was nothing new. Flume set her jaw as she stalked through the room, keeping her senses open for any hint that the Book might have an unpleasant development set up for her.
She was going to look for the murderer and solve everything, alright. But if that fucking stack of paper thought it could impress her by killing someone off it had miscalibrated sorely. It would take more than that to get her traipsing along in docile bliss for its stupid stories.
In the dining hall Flume found a table laden with day-old food, evid
Sinclair looked down at Flume, feeling his chest tighten at the crestfallen, lifeless way she moved her limbs as they stepped into the airlock and she reached up to punch in an opening code. They both winced, eyelids narrowing against the sharpness of the sudden sunlight.
Sinclair felt a small sense of gratitude for that brightness; it was healthy and safe and natural, a powerful deterrent against so many of his own monsters. Flume, who had been so moved when she had first found herself upon the surface of a planet and under its glorious sun, was unmoved now. She looked tired down to her molecules, moving with the listless mechanic qualit
"What," Anna said coolly, as she regarded their host, "in the actual nature of fuck."
Transitions, it seemed, were beginning to lose their flavor. Anna had not spoken to Reinald as they threaded through the forest, through the rip, and into this next story. There was no fancy curling of medium this time, just a languid morphing of their clothing and a flicker of some short-lived sense of duty that didn't bother truly fighting to establish itself in their chests.
They were standing under the overhang of a great and splendid Victorian mansion, politely sheltered from the shivering drizzle of rain that blanketed the surroundings well enoug
Edit//
FUN FACT I was filling this out then the Net went down so it is double overdue.
Because I hit up like three of you for features and then never did the journal roflcopter giraffipede.
RULES:
1. For each of the 10 first people answering this journal, I will put their avatar and the three deviations I like most from their gallery on the list!
2. If you answer, you have to do the same in your journal, putting the tagger on the first place. The idea of this is not to get a free feature, it is to spread art around for everyone!
1. ~TwinkSatan (https://www.deviantart.com/twinksatan)
:thumb203909161:
:thumb258735393:
The first time I filled this out I read that as Where
I really should post more journals, being a paid member and all.
And it made me so happy reading Letsly (https://www.deviantart.com/letsly) and phantomeus (https://www.deviantart.com/phantomeus)'s responses to my comments, I felt rather obliged to post :heart:
Anyone who comments on this I'll answer THESE QUESTIONS:
1.) Something I learned about you looking on your DA page for 13 seconds.
2.) What color do you remind me of.
3.) My first memory of you.
4.) Something I've always wondered about you.
5.) What I like the most of you.
6.) I'll give you a weird name.
7.) I'll tell you what I feel like doing right now.
8.) Tell you a creature you remind me of.
9.) I'll challenge you to post this in your
HELLO!^_^I SENT AN ANGEL TO WATCH OVA U LAST NIGHT, BUT IT CAME BACK... I ASKED...WHY? & IT SAID... ANGELS DON'T WATCH OVA ANGELS ******SEND THIS ALL DA PEOPLE U REALLY CARE ABOUT***** 20 angels are in this world, 10 are sleeping, 9 are playing & 1 is reading this comment. Send this to 10 friends including me & if you get 5 replies some one you love will surprise you!!"