(Untitled)

[kepthishead]

[So this one day in a zombie farm, Elliot Nightray watched as his girlfriend set herself on fire and then got decapitated, tried to form a contract with yet another eldritch abomination, got himself blown up and torn apart for his troubles and then he made yet another Good Decision: promising Oz Vessalius that he would be available to tell him

Comments

[pieta_au_lait]

[has also just gotten cleaned up, sitting nearby]

[kepthishead]

Is your neck still sore?

[pieta_au_lait]

... only a little--when I tilt it a certain way.

[kepthishead]

Then ... don't.

[pieta_au_lait]

[nods, then after a moment:]

How do you feel?

[kepthishead]

[shrugs, masking a wince]

Fine.

[pieta_au_lait]

Are you sure?

[kepthishead]

Fine. No, my injuries still ache, but I know that they're not real. Is that better?

[pieta_au_lait]

...

[kepthishead]

It'll fade. They did last time.

[pieta_au_lait]

Last time?

[kepthishead]

When I died before. This is my second time.

[pieta_au_lait]

... oh. Right.

[kepthishead]

Except last time was in the shower, so I could just go back to my room without anyone bringing me here.

[pieta_au_lait]

[nods, quiet for a few moments]

... Elliot?

[kepthishead]

Yes?