(no subject)
[ WHO ]: Rubi (whiskeykillshot ), Bakura (spiritofathief ), Mika (notlikethemovie ), maybe Marluxia (petalsofdeath ) later.
[ WHERE ]: Bakura/Marluxia's Apartment
[ WHEN ]: A little after this goes down.
[ OPEN/CLOSED? ]: Closed for now.
[ RATING ]: PG-13
[ WARNINGS ]: Gore, language... overwhelming gayness of Marluxia's hair
[ NOTES ]: Who says dissections can't be fun?
So tired.
She couldn't remember how long ago the fight had ended, but it felt like days. Mostly that was from the rage wearing off, plus she was running on nothing but the dregs of her adrenaline rush now. It was a miracle she managed to get down the stairs without tripping and breaking her neck in the process. Every bit of her hurt. Mostly her lungs, but her back was a close second, not to mention the various burns she had in her skin. Her clothing was a mass of holes, soot, and bloodstains.
...damn it. She was bad at this hero thing.
A soft, wet 'thump' behind her made her grimace, firming her grasp on a pale ankle she had her fingers wrapped around while she searched for the familiar numerical sequence that meant at least a chance of a nap on a couch and maybe a can of liquid courage to tide her over until her energy got up to normal levels. Then again that might be wishful thinking. Marluxia could swing from one emotional state to another in the blink of an eye.
Finding what she hoped to be the right door, Rubi paused in the act of raising a fist to knock on the door after remembering what exactly she had clenched in her fist. However, it just so happened the forward momentum was enough to cause a loud enough 'whumph' as she all but fell forwards, barely propped up by the shut door while her conscious mind decided to take a coffee break.
[ WHERE ]: Bakura/Marluxia's Apartment
[ WHEN ]: A little after this goes down.
[ OPEN/CLOSED? ]: Closed for now.
[ RATING ]: PG-13
[ WARNINGS ]: Gore, language... overwhelming gayness of Marluxia's hair
[ NOTES ]: Who says dissections can't be fun?
So tired.
She couldn't remember how long ago the fight had ended, but it felt like days. Mostly that was from the rage wearing off, plus she was running on nothing but the dregs of her adrenaline rush now. It was a miracle she managed to get down the stairs without tripping and breaking her neck in the process. Every bit of her hurt. Mostly her lungs, but her back was a close second, not to mention the various burns she had in her skin. Her clothing was a mass of holes, soot, and bloodstains.
...damn it. She was bad at this hero thing.
A soft, wet 'thump' behind her made her grimace, firming her grasp on a pale ankle she had her fingers wrapped around while she searched for the familiar numerical sequence that meant at least a chance of a nap on a couch and maybe a can of liquid courage to tide her over until her energy got up to normal levels. Then again that might be wishful thinking. Marluxia could swing from one emotional state to another in the blink of an eye.
Finding what she hoped to be the right door, Rubi paused in the act of raising a fist to knock on the door after remembering what exactly she had clenched in her fist. However, it just so happened the forward momentum was enough to cause a loud enough 'whumph' as she all but fell forwards, barely propped up by the shut door while her conscious mind decided to take a coffee break.