☣ fifth story (action → locked to emilia. )
Warnings: Gun issues, war, possible language and violent mental imagery? and also FEEEEELINGS.
( Ellie's tired. Real tired, the kind that make it seems like you're pulling your way though tar with concrete blocks tethered to your legs. Her feet drag a bit as she makes her way in, the effort of retrieving dirt and spending the better part of her day trying to do something with it showing.
She was tired enough that she hadn't even tried to fire the gun and see if it'd work - trying to create it so it was exactly right was hard it, especially after the trek to get the bloody dirt. The gun is just hanging from the strap across her chest as she rubs the back of her neck and wanders into the kitchen. She figures that, or behind a stack of books, are the fastest ways to find Emilia.) Em? I'm back.
( So strange, having someone to report to aside from the others. )
( Ellie's tired. Real tired, the kind that make it seems like you're pulling your way though tar with concrete blocks tethered to your legs. Her feet drag a bit as she makes her way in, the effort of retrieving dirt and spending the better part of her day trying to do something with it showing.
She was tired enough that she hadn't even tried to fire the gun and see if it'd work - trying to create it so it was exactly right was hard it, especially after the trek to get the bloody dirt. The gun is just hanging from the strap across her chest as she rubs the back of her neck and wanders into the kitchen. She figures that, or behind a stack of books, are the fastest ways to find Emilia.) Em? I'm back.
( So strange, having someone to report to aside from the others. )