(Untitled)

[not_unhaunted]

[Tyki is just chilling here in a random kitchen. It's cheerful enough, bright with lots of fluorescent lights, and it's not exactly a mess- although it's not a decent hour by any standard. There are a couple rolls of bandages, one half-gone, on the table he's sitting at, along with a scotch tape dispenser, lots of snapped matches (hard to light up

Comments

[heartsbook]

...Need any help there?

[heartlessbooks]

Can't say I know her.

[not_unhaunted]

Ah. I wish I could say the same.

[heartlessbooks]

...How bad is the injury?

[not_unhaunted]

Barely anything.

[like hell, Tyki.]

[heartsbook]

D'ya really think I'll believe that?

[not_unhaunted]

I can hope.

[hums a little awkwardly.]

[heartsbook]

Sorry ta disappoint, Tyki, but I don't believe ya.

[not_unhaunted]

Your loss.

[looks away briefly.] Still breathing, aren't I?

[heartlessbooks]

Always a good thing.

[not_unhaunted]

And there we have it, nothing too terribly wrong.

[heartlessbooks]

Doesn't stop me from being worried.

[not_unhaunted]

[SEE ICON.]

--What?

[heartsbook]

What?

[not_unhaunted]

Worried? [he's pretty sure that's not really supposed to happen.]

[heartsbook]

Is that really so surprising?