-
OOC Contact Entry
Questions, concerns, or other contact requirements go here. -
(Untitled)
Marsh sits in the room, resting. He rests more than he is active these days and the voice whispers to him constantly. If it weren't for Rider - but she is here, his beautiful Medusa, and he turns his blind face to follow the sound of her breathing. -
(Untitled)
He finished stuffing the letter into one of the legs of the table, and sent Rider away, even as the boots came up the stairs. No pounding, Inquisitors never pound. No hurry, Inquisitors never lose the scent. Marsh looked around the room one last time to make certain everything was hidden, or destroyed before he sat to wait.
I'm sorry, Rider. I ( Read more... ) -
Out of Milliways:
Dear Rider ( Read more... ) -
Rider
Marsh's shop is as clean as he can make it. He does not allow the ash to build up, sweeping and dusting obsessively. The overall result is grimy, but not dirty. There are no pretensions to this place; his wares are strictly middle of the road and he has no interest in attempting to make a name for himself. A high counter separates the customers ( Read more... )
