Mary Anne Bell (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
song_tra_bong) wrote2006-05-30 02:22 am
song_tra_bong) wrote2006-05-30 02:22 am
(no subject)
[ooc: after this]
It's almost like after a night with Ruin, except her clothes are still intact.
She puts the jar down on the bathroom counter, flips the shower on, and tugs off her boots while the water warms.
It's routine, now: climb in with all your clothes on, remove them a piece at a time. Check for damage, check for stains. Check for bruises. Check for cuts.
Throw the clothes into the corner. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Random's son it's Random's son you promised you promised you lied stay away stay away he's not like you you can't give each other what you need can't you all about the pain like he said oh the pain and he was she was warm and close and oh god you would have them all if you could her mouth on your throat his blood in your mouth his voice in your ear you would have them all if you could would should give them all up can't keep this up not if you take it you'd have this forever you'd have this forever so bad would it really be so bad yes yes yes yes no no
if only they wouldn't keep leaving
She sits on the floor of the shower, knees tucked to her chest, water pounding against her aching back.
Even in Milliways, the hot water gives out eventually.
The shock of it makes her stand up, snapping the water off in one smooth motion. She kicks the damp clothes out onto the floor and towels gingerly off, eyeing the bruises already begining to form.
She studies the jar for a moment, tosses and catches it once, even entertains the idea of throwing it to the floor just to see how it breaks. In the end, she sets it back on the counter, removes the lid, and begins treating all visible wounds.
It's almost like after a night with Ruin, except her clothes are still intact.
She puts the jar down on the bathroom counter, flips the shower on, and tugs off her boots while the water warms.
It's routine, now: climb in with all your clothes on, remove them a piece at a time. Check for damage, check for stains. Check for bruises. Check for cuts.
Throw the clothes into the corner. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Random's son it's Random's son you promised you promised you lied stay away stay away he's not like you you can't give each other what you need can't you all about the pain like he said oh the pain and he was she was warm and close and oh god you would have them all if you could her mouth on your throat his blood in your mouth his voice in your ear you would have them all if you could would should give them all up can't keep this up not if you take it you'd have this forever you'd have this forever so bad would it really be so bad yes yes yes yes no no
if only they wouldn't keep leaving
She sits on the floor of the shower, knees tucked to her chest, water pounding against her aching back.
Even in Milliways, the hot water gives out eventually.
The shock of it makes her stand up, snapping the water off in one smooth motion. She kicks the damp clothes out onto the floor and towels gingerly off, eyeing the bruises already begining to form.
She studies the jar for a moment, tosses and catches it once, even entertains the idea of throwing it to the floor just to see how it breaks. In the end, she sets it back on the counter, removes the lid, and begins treating all visible wounds.