And if you think you've won, you never saw me change the game that we have been playing. [Locked]

[nothingsodivine]

In all standard tales of heroic deeds, the hero generally arrives on scene riding a white stallion... Desmond Descant arrives back in Chicago on the back of a bog unicorn , and the denziens of Chicago who actually pay attention to this sort of thing have to sit and wonder what the hell that's all about... Or they would, if it weren't O'Dark Thirty in the morning when Des breaks through the city limits with a single destination in mind- a very specific half-finished building where Bastard McJackass of the Sonuvabitch Infantry is holding his Doctor captive, and that shit just don't fly with Desmond D. Descant.

He's not sure what he expects to do with a fucking bog unicorn, a guardian angel who met him halfway (he's still sorry, he ran off to Gary, Indiana without her, but, in his defense, he didn't have a journal), and a revolver, but he'll damn well figure something out.

This is not a happy Des. This is not a happy Des at all.