07-19-2018, 06:58 PM
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Her right ear twitched as she heard the crunching foliage, her slitted pupils jerkily moving to look at the shaded shelter. The hellhound's glowing eyes, unmistakably Luca's, popped against the relative darkness - before the rest of him popped out, too. She nodded in greeting to him, her main eyes analyzing him and his various scratches. But her smaller eyes, almost blended into the top of her head with her dark splotches, moved almost erratically as she read the words that formed momentarily in the air around the demon.
She could see the hesitance in his voice, more than she could decipher it from his tone. She frowned for a half-second, confused as to why the male seemed uncertain. And why he called her ma'am. Rosemary understood that one, least of all, especially given he wasn't even the first or second to address her like that since coming to the Typhoon. As the youngest of her previous coven, nobody approached her with respectful hesitance, and she wasn't adapting to it well.
"Rosemary is fine," she mumbled back in response, seemingly catching the hesitance bug from Luca. But the wavering in her tone came from her distracted mind. Did she come across as more intimidating than she realized? Was she considered mean to the rest of the members? Questions rolled around in her head, but she pushed past them to resume her little quest. Clearing her throat, she pulled her satchel off her shoulder and placed it in front of her; the movement caused the clasp to shuffle slightly, and a perfume-like smell of mint and other herbs wafted from its opening. "I couldn't help but notice your scratches. I'd like to bandage them up for you, if that's alright," she explained, her voice cracked and dry - like the snap dead sticks, which contrasted so strangely against the jungle.
She could see the hesitance in his voice, more than she could decipher it from his tone. She frowned for a half-second, confused as to why the male seemed uncertain. And why he called her ma'am. Rosemary understood that one, least of all, especially given he wasn't even the first or second to address her like that since coming to the Typhoon. As the youngest of her previous coven, nobody approached her with respectful hesitance, and she wasn't adapting to it well.
"Rosemary is fine," she mumbled back in response, seemingly catching the hesitance bug from Luca. But the wavering in her tone came from her distracted mind. Did she come across as more intimidating than she realized? Was she considered mean to the rest of the members? Questions rolled around in her head, but she pushed past them to resume her little quest. Clearing her throat, she pulled her satchel off her shoulder and placed it in front of her; the movement caused the clasp to shuffle slightly, and a perfume-like smell of mint and other herbs wafted from its opening. "I couldn't help but notice your scratches. I'd like to bandage them up for you, if that's alright," she explained, her voice cracked and dry - like the snap dead sticks, which contrasted so strangely against the jungle.
I FEEL SO HUNGRY —
— Dear diary, I don't know what's going on, but something's up / The dog won't stop barking, and I think my TV is bust / Every channel is the same, it's sending me insane / And earlier somebody bit me, what a fucking day / The sky is falling / It's fucking boring / I'm going braindead, isolated / God is a shithead / And we're his rejects / Traumatized for breakfast / I can't stomach any more survival horror / Dear diary, I feel itchy like there's bugs under my skin / The dog's gone rabid (shut the fuck up) / Doing my head in —— WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?