Date: 2013-08-01 04:13 pm (UTC)
lepouvantail: (Default)
From: [personal profile] lepouvantail
A nod of acknowledgement, a beckoning finger to bring him to one of the unused bed in the hospital wing, where the poor wretch would wake to be bound down with belts until Crane was ready for him.

The God of Fear would properly take his tribute then.

The sandwiches were taken with further appreciation. Food was at times difficult to gain when half of your time was spent guarding your territory.

"Shall we continue?" he asked, already moving to his office, to the precious chemicals locked behind the safe.
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A Musebox for Flying Squids

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