Stones of Farspeech

[devilstongue]

This place is bullshit.

[ That's putting it mildly, in Molly's not-so-humble opinion. ]

There's one thing to share dreams and other weird things, but getting tortured upon that is just insane. Rewards don't mean shit when it comes over someone's life. Even if you get up again, here, there's no way it's just going to be shrugged off. I don't care how tough you think you are.

[ He's got experience, after all. ]

How do we get out of here rather than just sit around and try to become farmers in broken homes? Please tell me you've at least fucking tried, because I'm done with this.

[ Even if Molly can't exactly go back to being dead, he's getting his friends out of here. No matter what it would cost him. ]

Comments

[lesbeau]

[Oh, look at these fucking fools. Beau realizes a second too late and spits it out, and then just looks at him and absolutely screams.

Whoops. They fucked up. And there goes Beau without another word running headfirst into the ocean. Surely, washing her mouth out will fix it... right?

(It won't. It really won't. But now she's garbling through that and it's probably a hell of a sight.)]

[devilstongue]

[ He's very quickly following her, yelling in horror as well and just throwing himself in the ocean. It definitely doesn't help at all and gargling salt water just makes him throw up. That really doesn't make the situation better, either.

They fucked up. Molly's never eating leaves again, holy fuck. His mouth is on fire and he's pretty sure this is the end of both of them. ]

[lesbeau]

[This is it! They live in hell! She almost swallows a mouthful and makes it out without throwing up only to a nice con save. Now it's just coming to pedaling away from his vomit and screaming.

Here they are. In their own hubris. Paying for their crimes.]

[devilstongue]

[ Thank you, he's done. Being bored out of his ass was better than this fucking thing.

Snorting salt water out of his nose, Molly swears under his breath and looks at Beau. This was it, they're gonna go back home, lie down and beg Yasha to be merciful. ]

We're idiots.

[lesbeau]

[She's dragged herself from the surf just far enough up the beach to fall on her back on the sand, the waves still hitting her up to her waist as she lies there and tries to breathe.]

I hate us.

[Time to cry on Yasha until she does something, for Sure.]