It had been an indeterminate amount of time since Sherlock had been captured, the pitch dark room he was confined to leaving him no way to determine the passage of time. He stared blankly into the darkness, turning over the events in his head and hating himself for being so careless and getting caught. He shifts his arms that are bound behind his back, wincing when the zip-ties around his wrists bite into his skin that was already rubbed raw and bleeding. His head ached and throbbed in thanks to the thorough beating he'd received, certainly not helping matters himself by mouthing off to his captors. He sighed heavily and slumped against the pipe his was bound to, having no idea when someone would realize he was gone, let alone be able to find him.
Ooh, thank you for options! 8, I think, perhaps hints of 12 relating to magic Edit for HTMLrebutleFebruary 16 2013, 08:30:59 UTC
[Bruises look brilliant on skin as pale as hers. There's thick purples beginning to bloom on top of greens and yellows fading back. And red, lots of red.
She looks battered. She looks like she's been battered for a long time. Perhaps this is why she's been avoiding Myrddin for months, perhaps even years at this point. Long enough for the changeling Courts to change rulers a few times, for a tyrant to take a throne and decide they wouldn't let it go.
The weather in town has been wrong since fall--snow never came and there's a fog that lingers in the mornings much longer than it's welcome, clearing just in time for the red light of sunset. It's Autumn's weather, to please a mad Autumn King.
copy that :)oncemyrddinFebruary 16 2013, 12:52:53 UTC
Myrddin is not sure at what point his senses became honed to this unbearably thick mist. The air seems to block the sun and sight. Yet, he's keenly aware that when he turns the angle in the hedgerow, he is not alone.
She is not what he is looking for, has been looking for in this miserable place for too long. However, as soon as he drops to crouch beside her, taking in the flowering colors across her skin, his focus completely resides with her.
"Gladly," he says to her go away and he reaches for her as he plans to take her, "we need to get out of the open."
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She looks battered. She looks like she's been battered for a long time. Perhaps this is why she's been avoiding Myrddin for months, perhaps even years at this point. Long enough for the changeling Courts to change rulers a few times, for a tyrant to take a throne and decide they wouldn't let it go.
The weather in town has been wrong since fall--snow never came and there's a fog that lingers in the mornings much longer than it's welcome, clearing just in time for the red light of sunset. It's Autumn's weather, to please a mad Autumn King.
And Abigail is hurt]
Go away.
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She is not what he is looking for, has been looking for in this miserable place for too long. However, as soon as he drops to crouch beside her, taking in the flowering colors across her skin, his focus completely resides with her.
"Gladly," he says to her go away and he reaches for her as he plans to take her, "we need to get out of the open."
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