(no subject)
Who: Brock and Maladict
What: Utterly failing to find Joshua and being assaulted by fairies.
When: December 5th
Where: Out in the Paradisan wilderness, on the powered side.
Rating: Proobably no more than PG-13.
They'd been out for a couple of days now, trying to find a trail that wasn't even there. Still, it was better than sitting around waiting for someone in Peace Patrol to maybe possibly decide to do something about Joshua's escape. And really, Brock wasn't all that bad company to drag around on a search, Mal decided. He was significantly less irritating than most of the other residents.
But then the snow came, and following the trail became near impossible. Plus, in her limited experience of such things, she knew humans weren't all that great in cold weather. They were squishy and prone to hypothermia, and she was certain Brock would bitch all the way back to the castle if he started losing extremities. The vampire sighed, looking up at the sky, watching the flakes drift down.
"I doubt we're going to get anywhere now. Might was well call it a bad job and go back."
What: Utterly failing to find Joshua and being assaulted by fairies.
When: December 5th
Where: Out in the Paradisan wilderness, on the powered side.
Rating: Proobably no more than PG-13.
They'd been out for a couple of days now, trying to find a trail that wasn't even there. Still, it was better than sitting around waiting for someone in Peace Patrol to maybe possibly decide to do something about Joshua's escape. And really, Brock wasn't all that bad company to drag around on a search, Mal decided. He was significantly less irritating than most of the other residents.
But then the snow came, and following the trail became near impossible. Plus, in her limited experience of such things, she knew humans weren't all that great in cold weather. They were squishy and prone to hypothermia, and she was certain Brock would bitch all the way back to the castle if he started losing extremities. The vampire sighed, looking up at the sky, watching the flakes drift down.
"I doubt we're going to get anywhere now. Might was well call it a bad job and go back."