Leave a comment

stubborn_throes February 25 2012, 02:15:45 UTC
[Rose cringes at this contact from his lips, jerking her shoulders.]

Taking time to romance me first?
[She grits her teeth and rolls her eyes, trying to keep composed.]
The perpetual gentleman, aren't you...?

Reply

doctor_scratch February 25 2012, 02:23:26 UTC
Come, Rose, this may be our last night together, and as much trouble as you've been, I have found your company most invigorating~ [He licks his lips and twirls the knife in his gloved fingers.] Besides, this next part might sting quite a bit. The least I could do for my lovely guest is help her to relax~

Reply

stubborn_throes February 25 2012, 02:31:52 UTC
You make it so easy. [She brandishes a steely glare.]

How do you plan on summoning your God when we're not even in the same universe? All you're going to bear witness to is a corpse in your lap.

Reply

doctor_scratch February 25 2012, 02:42:21 UTC
My dear, God is every universe. God is everything. He stretches beyond space and time, beyond life itself. He will arrive all the same, I'm sure. All the same~

[Scratch chuckles, placing the knife to her stomach and contemplating upon his next action. He begins to cut into her clothes to expose her midriff.]

Reply

stubborn_throes February 25 2012, 03:19:24 UTC
Okay, I can check off "Attempt to reason with a deluded psychopath" off my list of things to do before I die. [A smile so facetious. Her eyes narrow down at her stomach.]

Is stripping me of my clothes consequential towards the ritual or has your phony God allotted you my body to play with?

Reply

doctor_scratch February 25 2012, 16:20:22 UTC
Oh, no, trust me, this is essential. After all, when you were just a baby, you weren't wearing clothing, were you? This is about the part where your dastardly mother interrupted us. Not your real mother, of course, the recently deceased one.

[He exposes her stomach, pressing the tip of his knife towards the top.] I would brace yourself, this really is going to hurt.

Reply


Leave a comment

Up