Something stirs in the leaves in the woods with a small groan, sprawled in the dark. A moment later it scrabbles to its feet using a tree and has a knife out and very much ready to use, breathing hard, eyes probing the darkness. Satisfied that nothing is indeed there, the knife vanishes and he shakes out his shoulders, feeling stiff and sore and ( Read more... )

Locke is currently in his room, leaning over the sink and cursing fluently, dripping blood into the sink from where he just set his nose straight. Ow, that hurts. He's still vaguely amused though, even through the pain kind of sucks a little bit. He eyes his reflection in the mirror, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I wonder what he found so ( Read more... )

*will be looking fairly good, actually - the conversation with Sagramore did something for him, really, and is therefore wandering across the lawn, hands in his pockets, yes, toward the woods. missed that warning.*

*siiiigh. She'll be catching him by the collar, or almost, then.* Locke!

*almost flails epically, then recognizes the voice and ( Read more... )

There are a few things Locke Lamora doesn't do. Locke Lamora doesn't regret. Locke Lamora doesn't get really drunk. And Locke Lamora definitely doesn't cry.

Unfortunately, Locke Lamora is currently doing all three of these things.

Sprawled on his back on the bed, sideways so his head is flopped over the side, two empty bottles of wine on the floor ( Read more... )

Locke is on his feet again, a scarf covering the distinctive bruise, and strolling around the Mansion in full Locke personality regalia. Complete with the knives, of course. And even if he's not aware he's doing it, he is looking for someone, though he hardly knows who that someone is. He has no worries that he will recognize the someone when he ( Read more... )

Well. Locke looks all right. Mostly. Other than the massive purple bruise around his neck. And the fact that he's not really moving very much. As in, totally unconscious.

Um. That went well.

*is reading outside, and actually daydreaming.*

*comes wandering outside, looking actually rather dark again, frowning, and looking for Valen.*

*does NOT see Locke and does NOT want to talk to him. She's hoping for a certain visitor to show up.*

*oooh, who?* *well, Locke is good at being inconvenient. doesn't appear to notice her for a while ( Read more... )

Well. Locke is in his room again, the door closed and staring at the wall, sitting up on his bed. He has not had a good afternoon. He doesn't really look like he has for the past few months. It's amazing how fast all the masks break away. He doesn't look quite human, not with the wild look in his eyes and the way he's hardly moving at all. There's ( Read more... )

Locke has found a good table, dragged it into his room, opened the windows, and set the stage. Because a stage it is. He's now sitting on the windowsill shuffling a deck of cards and looking remarkably pleased with himself, though it's easily mistaken for simple cheerfulness except for the glint in his eye. Because this is going to be fun.

Cyrano ( Read more... )

mmLocke is dreaming. Who knows what brought it on - the arrival of the twins, maybe just restlessness, maybe the magic Jaenelle used on him, but it’s a dream nonetheless. Bug’s standing there. Bug. Bertilion Gadek, with a crossbow bolt through his neck. “Locke,” he says in a hoarse voice, a dead voice. “Locke, save me. We’re Gentlemen Bastards. We ( Read more... )