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Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Lillian Thorne said
Ok, tell me you don't know the scene! Tell me that wet, fast sound of his licking doesn't come to mind the second you think about it... *shudders*

...what the fuck...I was gone for, like...ten minutes...

Animorphs

The tension rolled in thick and heavy as a summer storm. Even Max could feel it, though her intuition had always been more tenacious than her blissful ignorance. It made her good at people, it made her love people. It also made her impulsive and spontaneous, and probably a little too sensitive to those few threats she did perceive.

There were rumors older than her brothers that Iikka had sort of a violent streak. She'd never given much credence to them. She made it a point to avoid gossip, especially the kind that could hurt someone's feelings. That, and she was never really included in most gossip. But she knew it could hurt, and if she were the type to be easily put down by people, instead of just fascinated by them, she might have even been resentful. Instead, she did her best to duck either side of a potentially vicious cycle and ignore rumors, whether they were about Iikka, her, or someone else entirely.

Still. Iikka hadn't seemed so joke-y in his otherwise pedantic taunting of Mario. Making up a scavenger hunt when you knew there was nothing to be scavenging seemed sort of cruel, and Mario's avoidance of the situation didn't come across as wet blanket-y so much as pragmatic in a way Max could never be. There wasn't really any need to call names, except that maybe Iikka had been caught in his joke/lie and was being sort of mean about it now.

She glanced sidelong at Mario, then back to Iikka, the faintest beginnings of a frown flitting across her face. She didn't take offense to much -- your could hit her with an SUV and she'd laugh it off as long as everyone walked away in one piece -- but she really didn't like bullies.

But Iikka was already walking away, and she was more or less content to let him go, though she was faintly curious what would make a person want to lie about a scavenger hunt in the first place. She wondered if maybe he was lonely, and made a mental note for herself to find him at lunch one day. She had a few comic books she thought he might like.

For now, though, she smiled brightly at Jason before he could leave. "I think I'll try that, thanks. They really liked Kirby in all those Super Smash Something games. Um...also, good luck with you pants."

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Ugh. Grainsy. You are just the cutest.

Never Lose Your Hat!

Ivy had to shove both gore-covered hands into her apron pockets before she could accept Jötz's modified hand cannon, and even then, she almost dropped it in her eagerness. But it was, in her mind, well worth the wait as she wrapped both hands around the lacquered grip and squinted to improve her chances of hitting something that wasn't a tree, rock, or patch of sky.

Fortunately, her target was very large and gaining, so thank God for small mercies. She wasn't sure how many rounds they had left, or when or if she'd be able to make new ones, but since this hardly seemed the time to be conservative, she decided to pour her energies into making those remaining shots count.

She braced her elbows against Jötz's shoulder, took a breath, and held it thinking next time she remolded the pistol, assuming he ever let her touch it again, that she'd have to build in a new sight. Maybe a telescoping one. If she could get the magnification high enough, she could probably get it to double as a solar-powered laser, too, and necessarily increase accuracy and also have a laser, so that was a win-win for --

The sound of the first round leaving the barrel was shocking enough to bring her back to herself and provide a rude reminder that she must have squeezed the trigger without even realizing it. Fortunately, it seemed her aim had been improved by her carelessness, as a sudden gout of blood and gore seemed to explode outward from Queen Toad's belly, then a powerful hind leg, then its head area and gut again before the pistol was reduced to coughing smoke.

Ivy stared as the toad gave another ear-splitting croak before stumbling over itself and the mangled remains of its leg, and the distance between herself and her quarry seemed to increase magically. The other toads slowed their pursuit to either mourn or cannibalize their dying queen -- Ivy didn't much care to watch that. She wasn't entirely certain the threat was gone so much as inhibited, and she didn't want to find out.

"I...I think it's okay," she said slowly, still bouncing along with the gun clutched in sticky hands. "But maybe we should find somewhere new to hide."

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

All around her, people were bitching and joking and whining and drinking, and Daisy was looking at the interior of a bright-ass postcard, just waiting for Bambi's mom to get shot. Metaphorically. But also real-life-ically, since apparently their new and equally unseemly (though much less attractive) tour guide was part deer or some shit.

There was sort of this unspoken rule in Death -- well, there were several, but this was a biggie -- the more tranquil something appeared, the less trustworthy it was. In other words, if something appeared all coy and saccharine sweet, it was only because it wouldn't have to break a sweat to rip you to actual, candy-coated sprinkle-sized pieces.

The sixth plane of Death was a prime example -- all warm water, ankle-deep wading. Just enough serenity to trick you into relaxing. It was easier to pull your entire fucking spinal column out through your neck that way.

Not that they would be so easy with Daisy when they finally caught up, but that was neither here nor there. Or There. Whatever. The point was things never went from doom and gloom to lollipops and literal sunshine, at least not for this bunch, so while everyone else fretted over the wounded (one of which, Daisy noted smugly, included the elf, so bully for her), Daisy turned her attention to the bear-cat-doe-man standing in the center of the insidious paradise.

And maybe did just the teensiest amount of her own sort of fretting, which generally involved putting down everyone around her. Artie's wound was nothing more than superficial and some, but she was still pissed that stony bitch of a guard dog outside had manage to land so much as a grain of sand against her hellhound. The hound in question waited until it seemed danger was out of the way for the moment -- rookie move -- and shrank once more into something resembling a vulpine ferret. Daisy stooped absently to scoop him into her arms, ignoring the quiet sizzle of his blood on her skin to glare at the giant stone man whose fault this almost definitely was.

And now the fucker was offering this cloven-hooved dickhead some keys or some shit. Daisy rolled her eyes and grunted under her breath. She had to make a trip into Death to heal Artie anyway -- hell if anyone thought they were so much as looking at him the wrong way and getting away with it -- so she might as well make it count.

She strode forward, Artie half dozing in her arms, petulance written all over her face as she planted herself somewhere between Veti and C3PO. She turned first to the latter and smiled sweetly, having so not even kind of forgotten his stupid cookie remark.

"Hi," she said, putting out a hand to push the one that offered fucking useless house keys out of the way, all without breaking eye contact. "Could you maybe just...not? Like, ever again? Because while I'm sure we'd all appreciate the invitation to your weird robot-statue-Transfomer orgy, this is actually not the time. Thanks."

Then she turned and craned her neck to peer up at the rainbow-deer.

"Dunno if you noticed, but we're down one demonic leader today. We've only got the sub," the jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Veti. "So, if we could get a hint about this key, we'll go get it and be right back, lickety-split, deal?"

Artie was injured, but it didn't make his other-worldly tracking skill any less impressive. Besides, this place was just a little too bright and shiny for her tastes. And she'd been avoiding the other side for far too long.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Not at all. Most of my morning was spent standing in the rain and berating the poor tow truck dispatcher. Nothing exhausting so much as irritating...but now I've read through these lovely posts and I've found myself compelled to write. You folks are brilliant, annoying motherfuckers. =]

But there will be wine had, don't any of you worry about that.

EDIT: Grainsy, lemme know if I stepped on any toes -- yours or Veti's -- with that last post and Veti's super secret ticket, alright? As tirgey always says, edits are easy. =)

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

I'll be posting tonight. My roommate was in a car accident this morning. Everyone is fine, but it's anti-adrenaline nap time now, so I'm gonna do that, first. Then finish this bottle of wine, because it's taking up space in the refrigerator. •_•

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Heroes, maybe it's just cause I'm a little tipsy and I haven't read all the replies yet but your Abacus post was so fucking endearing.

And hello, Grainsy love. I've missed you. And my phone now auto corrects to Grainsy which is impressive because it still has trouble with my name.

Animorphs

Dropping in to say I've been MIA...but I should be back in the game tomorrow night.

Pieces of 8: Bones of the North

Sorry for the radio silence, been internet-less for a couple days. I'll play catch up this weekend! =]