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Elizabeth doesn’t slow—for that, Anne’s grateful. The badgering she could’ve done without, though. Bleeding out is fine, as long as she goes down swinging…but Elizabeth makes a good point. She’ll lead the fuckers right back to them with her staggering about, blood smears from holding her wound then touching a wall littering the way up towards them, and that’s not mentioning the trail of blood that’s dripped between her fingers and down her body to the dirty cobblestone below.

“Fuck!” She manages not to scream the word, at least, knocking her head back against the stone wall behind her. It’s a tight alley and they’ve stopped midway down: bad for an escape, good for a hide. With a strangled, angry cry, Anne relents. She fixes eyes of natural sea glass green on Elizabeth that shine almost as much as the sweat on her face. “Hope ye know how t’do this. It’s—fucking tricky, and I can’t get it myself.”

Anne whips the shirt off over her head and almost immediately shoves a part of it into her mouth, using that as a gag to muffle her scream. Unexpected fire rips through her side where the fuckers got her, growing worse now that it’s been exposed to the open air. She makes no move towards modesty, shirt off and tits exposed, panting from running and pain and probably blood loss. She locks eyes with Elizabeth and nods, dropping the shirt from her mouth to roll it into a better gag.

“Be quick or be dead, aye?”

On her own log beside Seachild, Anne flinches. First at the name, then at being taken for…whatever the fuck it was the other pirate thought she was talking about.

“Anne,” she corrects automatically, though without her usual ire. Until today, she’d thought people like Seachild were a myth (she’d been knocked clean on her ear to learn otherwise); she can forgive a little ignorance otherwise, especially when she’s the one muddying the waters on that count.

“And hold yer thanks, Seachild. I en’t finished yet. Everybody lies—but I need ye t’be honest with me here, even if only this once.” Anne sizes her up before looking back into the fire. There’s a lot she doesn’t want to unpack going into all of this—the ways she’s been twisted up and lied to and chained down mediocrity since adolescence—but a straight answer’s all she needs to set a course for the next little while. (Despite the fucker having been a wriggler, she’s become used to enduring the physically unpleasant by simply ignoring it; the tadpole is hardly even an afterthought now, dangerous and stupid as that is.) “Are the stories true? Does the Blessed Bitch sail with more twat than cock on it?”

@neverhangd asked "It’s a basic truth of the living condition that everybody lies."

"Everybody I know for sure lies." Zatara nods in agreement, sitting on a log beside the fire. They'd made camp inside an abandoned temple after dispatching of a few bandits and some undead, meeting a curious skeleton that now stood in the camp like some sort of Grim Reaper for hire. She sure wasn't about to pay him an ounce of gold if she didn't have to.

"Don't mean I don't want 'a find 'em once we're done wi'this damn brain worm gobshite." She said with a sigh, tossing a pinecone into the fire to watch it spark. "M'thanks again, Bonny, fer agreein' ta' help find m'crew on top o' this mess."

YOU don’t have to be perfect to be loved. but I do

THINGS  MY  PARTNER  SAID  AT  2AM  ;  starter pack.

feel  free  to  change  any  pronouns  or  subjects  (or  reverse).  these are real sentences spoken to me in one night from my very sleepy girlfriend,  han.

❛  do whatever you want,  i don’t believe in god.  ❜

❛  i have to like it ironically because i don’t know what it is.  ❜

❛  what would you do if you found out you were jesus?  ❜

❛  why isn't radioactivity yummy?  ❜

❛  you're depressed,  and you're high.  that's what we've figured out today.  ❜

❛  this is no time for that man.  ❜

❛  is that steve?  ❜

❛  CVS stand Child Vacation School,  because they're all children.  ❜

❛  testicle!  ❜

❛  what the fuck am i?  a bitch?  ❜

❛  i don't have a leg in this horse.  ❜

❛  who's banana?  ❜

❛  i'm not banana,  bitch.  ❜

❛  no more air.  ❜

❛  who are you to play god?  ❜

❛  i almost said arthur;  who's arthur?  ❜

❛  i'm gonna lock me and [ name ] in a room and see who happens.  ❜

❛  i'll be like their beloved grandmother,  sitting in my rocking chair.  spouting wisdom.  ❜

❛  i want pancakes.  ❜

❛  banana thigh.  you know,  like a chicken.  ❜

❛  i could have been a bitching shoe - man.  ❜

❛  you learn me how to make some shoes.  ❜

❛  i had to be in an era with choices and rights.  ❜

❛  what am i,  your cow?  that you milk?  ❜

❛  those are bees!  duuude.  ❜

❛  i should make a rug.  ❜

❛  do you think griffin mcelroy would be proud of me?  ❜

❛  why are we playing with corn?  stop that.  ❜

❛  good,  then you can't exploit me.  ❜

❛  there was a dog in the store and it was just a dog.  ❜

❛  the dog was drifting around her.  ❜

❛  the lady the dog came with asked me questions.  ❜

❛  you're profiting off of my exhaustion.  ❜

❛  i don't say that many funny things!  ❜

[ SINGS ]  for my muse to aggressively sing Kokomo by The Beach Boys at yours.

[ LAUGHS ]  for my muse to laugh at something unprompted at all.

[ MEOW ]  for my muse to meow like a cat at random to yours.

If you get excited about your muse on the dash and try to initiate something, only to be met with NOTHING? It is incredibly disheartening.

Permanent Interaction Call

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