...and stay the fuck out of my room.
Characters: Apostle and Caution
Date/Time: Mach 6, evening
Location: Section two housing
Rating: PG-13 for Apostle's potty mouth
Summary: (The phail!siblings are chilling at home. Shut up I was bored and Charlies wanted to RP.)
------
He was still bloody from work, blood crusting in half-moons around his nails and at the beds. He took more enjoyment in his work than any human should have, and even though they were livestock, he dedicated every last death to Jashin. They were sacrifices.
He didn't know anything else about his god, but he knew what felt right to him, and that was to kill in his name.
He was laying back on his bed, hair messily brushed back from his face. The necklace he'd bought from the scavenger in the bazaar was laying on his bare chest- it was the symbol from his dream, the one of his god. He had scribbled on the walls in black and red marker, a large symbol along one wall and many other smaller ones drawn in places where space would allow- some positioned at key areas, like just above where his head rested at night.
He was like a man obsessed with it. He'd even drawn it on his journal cover. He flipped over in bed, cracking open the journal that he had been holding and checking a page he'd been writing on.
"Tch. Such bullshit. Fucking shark-man. Bet he's pussy as hell, too."
Date/Time: Mach 6, evening
Location: Section two housing
Rating: PG-13 for Apostle's potty mouth
Summary: (The phail!siblings are chilling at home. Shut up I was bored and Charlies wanted to RP.)
------
He was still bloody from work, blood crusting in half-moons around his nails and at the beds. He took more enjoyment in his work than any human should have, and even though they were livestock, he dedicated every last death to Jashin. They were sacrifices.
He didn't know anything else about his god, but he knew what felt right to him, and that was to kill in his name.
He was laying back on his bed, hair messily brushed back from his face. The necklace he'd bought from the scavenger in the bazaar was laying on his bare chest- it was the symbol from his dream, the one of his god. He had scribbled on the walls in black and red marker, a large symbol along one wall and many other smaller ones drawn in places where space would allow- some positioned at key areas, like just above where his head rested at night.
He was like a man obsessed with it. He'd even drawn it on his journal cover. He flipped over in bed, cracking open the journal that he had been holding and checking a page he'd been writing on.
"Tch. Such bullshit. Fucking shark-man. Bet he's pussy as hell, too."