Why We Can't Have Nice Things
Sep. 22nd, 2009 09:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
justcallmefeeRamon never came home last night.
She'd come down to the bar in the wee hours looking for him, but he was no where to be seen. She'd even run by his room and knocked. Not home there either. Surely he'd have left her a note if he was going back to his world.
Trouble. She can feel it in her skin.
When morning rolled around and he still hadn't turned up, she gave in to her darker impulses and picked the lock on his door. No body in a pool of blood, thank god. (Carnage of another kind, but she didn't have time to deal with that now.)
She was only in bar five minutes before she overheard someone chuckling about his fate. She hit the back door like a cannon shot and ran across the open space. Sure enough, there it was. Gnarled and black, branches reaching out like claws.
A laugh, dry and a touch hysterical, boils up in her throat. This can't be happening.
[ tiny tag of fleecy goodness: Grover Underwood ]
[ tiny tag of suave corruption: Applegate ]
She'd come down to the bar in the wee hours looking for him, but he was no where to be seen. She'd even run by his room and knocked. Not home there either. Surely he'd have left her a note if he was going back to his world.
Trouble. She can feel it in her skin.
When morning rolled around and he still hadn't turned up, she gave in to her darker impulses and picked the lock on his door. No body in a pool of blood, thank god. (Carnage of another kind, but she didn't have time to deal with that now.)
She was only in bar five minutes before she overheard someone chuckling about his fate. She hit the back door like a cannon shot and ran across the open space. Sure enough, there it was. Gnarled and black, branches reaching out like claws.
A laugh, dry and a touch hysterical, boils up in her throat. This can't be happening.
[ tiny tag of fleecy goodness: Grover Underwood ]
[ tiny tag of suave corruption: Applegate ]
