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May. 25th, 2017 01:55 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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boxfullofzeroes(hum your own dirge, if you're the type.)
This is the end.
No, no, that's not true. The end was a little while ago.
A wound, a sickness, an accident. This is after the end. A ship ride to the afterlife, though it's hard to tell where it could be going. The seas are dark, even when the skies are bright, and it's hard to see too far off the sides and through the portholes.
It could be a beginning, instead, for the positive thinkers, or those who (think they've) wasted their lives. There are many on this boat, after all, be they enjoying the odd-but-comforting air on the top, or trying to relax below-decks. Who knows what bonds might be formed on the way?
This is the end.
No, no, that's not true. The end was a little while ago.
A wound, a sickness, an accident. This is after the end. A ship ride to the afterlife, though it's hard to tell where it could be going. The seas are dark, even when the skies are bright, and it's hard to see too far off the sides and through the portholes.
It could be a beginning, instead, for the positive thinkers, or those who (think they've) wasted their lives. There are many on this boat, after all, be they enjoying the odd-but-comforting air on the top, or trying to relax below-decks. Who knows what bonds might be formed on the way?
no subject
Date: 2017-10-22 01:57 pm (UTC)"Nice monsters?" she blurts, before she can consider what she's saying. She almost follows up with I've never heard of that, except, maybe she has. She wonders if the nomes count.
She does, of course, notice the body language, something she's learned to read fairly well in a place where hardly anyone talked. She's pretty sure Frisk's death wasn't an accident.