A Creeping Sense of Dread by phantasmaree, literature
Literature
A Creeping Sense of Dread
SeaCat kicked out, landing a strike square on Scarblade’s jaw, sending him backwards. “Insolent wretch–” he spat blood, “maybe some time in the brig will make you a little more amenable.” The cell was dark and damp, and a smell reminiscent of rotting sea life lingered in the air. They had taken her to the very back of the brig, presumably hoping the leakiest and dankest cell would scare some sense into her. Still, Seacat saw it as an improvement. She may have given herself up hostage voluntarily, but like hell was she going to let that deranged lupe get handsy with her. She pulled against the ropes binding her wrists. Scarblade had left her hands tied ever since she’d offered herself hostage–the one smart thing he’d done all night. If her hands had been untied, she thought to herself, he would’ve received much worse than a kick in the face. She looked around for anything useful. It was a clear night, with a bright full moon, and slivers of said moon’s light managed to slip in
Jacques woke cold, damp, and with a throbbing headache. With a groan, he pushed himself up on his elbows. A wave of nausea washed over him. Oh Fyora, what happened last night...
He opened his eyes. It took a moment for his foggy mind to make sense of his surroundings. The room was dimly lit. He was laying on the floor. The floor was...unpleasant? Mildewy? He noticed vertical bars.
Oh.
He sat up and pushed his fingers through his hair. The side of his head was matted with dried blood. That explained the headache. He desperately tried to recall what had happened, casting around the threadbare cell for answers. He himself had only the clothes on
A lazy heat hung over Krawk Island. It seemed to sap the energy out from everything, the humidity making every movement feel laborious. Even the nuisance bugs buzzed only halfheartedly. Jacques sat back against the cargo crates, sword and polish in his lap. He let his head loll back to gaze up at the sky. Clear, blue. For once, the island’s usual overcast and gloom had abated. Fyora, but at what cost? He thought. Can’t even enjoy the sun with this blasted heat.
A shadow fell over his vision then, and Jacques squinted.
“When’s captain Garin coming back? Did he say?”
“Talak...” he sighed.
“Yeah?
the new eclipse looks uuuhhhhhh Bad....my main problem is how the deviation pages look and how the watch tab is set up. ugh.
:stare:
yet i remain a prisoner of deviantart
ugh, i can't seem to get anything done unless someone's holding me accountable, including art
anyone wanna make me work with a trade?
no humans, mechs, nsfw
the 2020 mood lookin like its gonna be Loneliness, boys
best friend moving to michigan (to be with fiance, happy for her but also sad!) and brother moving to ontario in the spring