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[abduction; eponine]
Jun. 22nd, 2019 08:20 pmIf it weren't for the fact that the sort of rounds she makes in Darrow, in this sudden and hostile winter, are to check on people she cares about, and if it weren't for the fact that she has someone to return to as well, Lisbeth knows she'd be infinitely worse off. She tends to hole up in the winter, if there's no job, nothing calling her. Time moves around her like light in one of those pictures set to take for hours. She can go for weeks without speaking more than a sentence or two aloud.
This is different, and not only because she's killed a number of goblins already. She runs into them with surprising frequency, but attributes it to the fact that she's cheerfully left their ugly corpses all around.
This is different because she has people she cares about. She loves people, and she's not about to see them hauled off to the hulking dark castle or frozen to death or eaten by that fucking hag in the park.
Eponine texts, and Sam's on his way back from his own set of rounds. She's more nervous about being apart than she'd admit, but he doesn't seem to draw the creatures as much as she does.
The safest thing is to wait, but she can't be sure it's the safest thing for Eponine. She sends a message to Sam, but with spotty reception, she ends up leaving a post-it stuck to the monitor for the camera she thinks will be closest to her location. She signs it, after a moment's debate, with a heart and an L.
From there, she pulls on winter gear, arms herself, and takes off on the bike, still her best bet for travel. The roads are dark, but she's got enough light from the bike as she heads along snow-covered streets as quickly as she dares.
It's not difficult to find Eponine, and she's as close as Lisbeth thought to that particular camera.
"Hey."
This is different, and not only because she's killed a number of goblins already. She runs into them with surprising frequency, but attributes it to the fact that she's cheerfully left their ugly corpses all around.
This is different because she has people she cares about. She loves people, and she's not about to see them hauled off to the hulking dark castle or frozen to death or eaten by that fucking hag in the park.
Eponine texts, and Sam's on his way back from his own set of rounds. She's more nervous about being apart than she'd admit, but he doesn't seem to draw the creatures as much as she does.
The safest thing is to wait, but she can't be sure it's the safest thing for Eponine. She sends a message to Sam, but with spotty reception, she ends up leaving a post-it stuck to the monitor for the camera she thinks will be closest to her location. She signs it, after a moment's debate, with a heart and an L.
From there, she pulls on winter gear, arms herself, and takes off on the bike, still her best bet for travel. The roads are dark, but she's got enough light from the bike as she heads along snow-covered streets as quickly as she dares.
It's not difficult to find Eponine, and she's as close as Lisbeth thought to that particular camera.
"Hey."
