in the dark / day one, rita.
Feb 23, 2024 15:55:20 GMT -5
Post by jj jenkins d7. ✨ zozo. on Feb 23, 2024 15:55:20 GMT -5
![](https://64.media.tumblr.com/303251093ff5db1794d5a08e750e7392/912aa287f7e731bf-1a/s400x600/d35c0dacb3110a1808eec369ad12621651322013.jpg)
H A R L E Y
one with the baseball bat in the pen
two with the sword, stick, strike & defend
two with the sword, stick, strike & defend
Arms crossed, trademark frown: "I'm not going in there." Hell no, she wants to add - but Harley's not one for dramatics. Her neck cranes up at the mass of black that ripples as if it's alive and a shiver runs through her spine, seperate from the ones caused by the cold. What was it that Dad used to quote, stare into the abyss and it stares right back? Whatever. Harley knows a bad idea when she sees one. Rita doesn't play it safe. It's something Harley admires in her, that sheer recklessness or confidence that can only come from being raised in One - but it also makes her swallow, grit her teeth. She holds her breath as Rita wanders in, waiting for the scream or the canon fire. One second, two seconds, three seconds, ten. Twenty. Thirty. It never comes. But the sudden trilling of the twinkly little light that insists on following Harley makes her start, jumping with her heart as it leaps into her throat. "Fuck!" she gasps, shakes her head, steadies and recalibrates. "You little shit, what do you think... you're...?" And the Seelie floats gently, almost smiling at her, and enters the fold that stretches across this makeshift world. Harley almost starts, raising her hand ever so slightly before it falls back to her side. Wait, she wants to say. Don't. But then she sees it - that gentle blue glow. Ever so faint, but there. It shrinks, flickers, then grows once more as the Seelie bursts from the black smoke unbetrubed and hauling a sack of fabric in its tiny little limbs. Its wings flitter with the effort, sounds almost like straining as it stops in front of Harley and drops the bag at her feet. It nudges at her pockets, points a little hand toward the camoflague-coloured bag. Huh. "Find me something else and I'll think about letting you stick around." "You sure took those instructions seriously." It almost looks proud as Harley inspects the bag, unzips the compartments and dumps all but her knife into the main pouch before closing it securely and hoisting it over her shoulders. She won't admit this thought out loud, but the little thing might actually be useful after all. And she's always liked olive green, the colour of her eyes. Maxen's eyes. The colour of them, the last two Royce's standing. The Seelie hovers toward the edge of the fold, squeaking with a beckoning nudge of its arms. Harley sighs a "Fine" and follows her allies into the dark. |
table by sidney / lyrics hope tala
harley scavenges around the bone pit. gross!
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