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periphery | hal & marceline, day 5
Mar 23, 2024 13:49:16 GMT -5
Post by andromache s. ⚔️ [d1b] sucy on Mar 23, 2024 13:49:16 GMT -5
Marceline hobbles along beside Hal all the way to the watchtower in the distance. The clearing, where Six lies dead, circled by a pair of vultures as vicious as those things that attacked them in the Fold fades from view, from earshot. The canon still rings in her ears regardless. Eventually her heartbeat slows down, no longer threatening to burst out of her chest… or to dislodge itself, slide down her body, slip out of the fresh gaping maw on her stomach, and plop on the ground. She can practically see it, splatting against the snow, booming with each bloodless flex — it might’ve already happened, might be somewhere on the ground behind them. All she feels now could be the pulsing emptiness of where her core used to be.
Eventually they reach their destination, and once they creak the door open and stumble up the stairs, Marceline finally lets out a high, tight whine. She undoes the laces of her leather boots; they’re damaged but not destroyed and she thinks she loves them. Inspecting the wound doesn’t tell her much, but she can swiftly wrap it up and set it in place with the boot again, out of the way. Now to the meat of her current problems: her stomach.
Marceline stretches out her torso. More blood spurts out. She groans once then grits her teeth. Time to get down to it. She sews herself up. It’s the one skill she’s really able to use. Despite the blood, it still calms her somehow.
“Thank you. For saying what you said,” she says. They’ll have to part eventually, probably sooner rather than later, but at least for tonight they won’t abandon each other. And, she thinks, any abandonment would be mutual. It nearly makes her laugh — if she’d allowed herself to, it would’ve been a curt, cynical sound. A bark. All she’s done and still she can’t consider killing Hal.
When everything’s said and done and they’re looking less worse for wear, Marceline tries out walking again. She stretches her legs, limping a little on her way over to the generator. Six’s ice picks clink in her bag. She shushes them. Now is not the time.
She tinkers with the generator…
“Fuck!”
Marceline thinks she’ll stick to fibre arts.
marceline attempts to fix the tower generator!
Q62RdRuQNj1-10
fails! takes 2 electrocution damage!
table credit to napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. !
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