(no subject)
Characters: Eyepatch/Badou (smokesordie) & Paladin/Cecil (mythgravenblade)
Date/Time: Forward dated December 23//Afternoonish
Location: Wellspring Island
Rating: PG13 for Eyepatch's mouth, and that's probably it
Summary: A chance encounter. Awkward times is a go, considering their last meeting. Also, fkkn Madagascar.
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BAM!
"MOTHER FUCK!" Eyepatch stumbled back a few feet and hit the ground. He smacked a hand over his face, muffling a groan. A sharp pain throbbed through his nose.
Moments before, he strode across the Wellspring Island with all the intent of getting to the Bazaar Ltd. His low cigarette supply meant that he needed to stock up, which frequently served as his primary source of motivation. Nothing out of the ordinary. He hadn't even really consciously noted coughing when he took a drag of his lit cigarette.
Speaking of. His freehand scrambled across the ground to retrieve that cigarette before he pushed himself to his feet. He lowered his other hand, a spot of blood smeared on his palm. He quickly dismissed that in favor of craning his head way back. Upon closer inspection, he realized that something hadn't just hit him: he had walked into some sort of bubble barrier that blocked his access to the bridge. How the hell had he not noticed that?
God dammit.
He spun around, heading toward the Clinic, looking a right mess with his scrunched features and blood trickling down his nose. "Hey!" he called out to the first person he spotted, pointing back to the bubble with his thumb. "The hell's going on?"
Date/Time: Forward dated December 23//Afternoonish
Location: Wellspring Island
Rating: PG13 for Eyepatch's mouth, and that's probably it
Summary: A chance encounter. Awkward times is a go, considering their last meeting. Also, fkkn Madagascar.
------
BAM!
"MOTHER FUCK!" Eyepatch stumbled back a few feet and hit the ground. He smacked a hand over his face, muffling a groan. A sharp pain throbbed through his nose.
Moments before, he strode across the Wellspring Island with all the intent of getting to the Bazaar Ltd. His low cigarette supply meant that he needed to stock up, which frequently served as his primary source of motivation. Nothing out of the ordinary. He hadn't even really consciously noted coughing when he took a drag of his lit cigarette.
Speaking of. His freehand scrambled across the ground to retrieve that cigarette before he pushed himself to his feet. He lowered his other hand, a spot of blood smeared on his palm. He quickly dismissed that in favor of craning his head way back. Upon closer inspection, he realized that something hadn't just hit him: he had walked into some sort of bubble barrier that blocked his access to the bridge. How the hell had he not noticed that?
God dammit.
He spun around, heading toward the Clinic, looking a right mess with his scrunched features and blood trickling down his nose. "Hey!" he called out to the first person he spotted, pointing back to the bubble with his thumb. "The hell's going on?"