sticks and bones. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sticksandbones2024-07-19 09:51 am
sticksandbonesmods) wrote in sticksandbones2024-07-19 09:51 am
And Callie was a goner
Who: Callan & You
What: The Lake Guardian escapes gay baby jail I mean prison I mean the lake—
When: Forward-dated 7/31
Where: The Grove
Warnings: usual Callan warnings apply, so this log will probably mention eating people & violence, as well as Callan's usual shapeshifting to have too many limbs/eyes/etc.
The fog wall imperceptibly rolls back after everyone arrives back on dry land, back to the safety of Aldric's Grove, where the scary wet creatures cannot get anybody anymore.
Well. All except one scary wet creature, who realises with a start that the fog wall is passing over his head, stopping in its roll-back at the opposite edge of the lake. Which means he's free. He can leave the lake.
Finally.
Thus does this half-corrupted Thing haul himself out of the lake on long, spindly human limbs and scuttle through the woods, making a three-day journey in the record time of about four hours, plowing over trees in his wake. And when he arrives at the Grove, he still doesn't stop moving; a blur of black is all anyone will see, a strange shape in the daylight, as Callan skitters forward and then pitches himself into the well.
...
Anyway, good luck with that, y'all.
What: The Lake Guardian escapes gay baby jail I mean prison I mean the lake—
When: Forward-dated 7/31
Where: The Grove
Warnings: usual Callan warnings apply, so this log will probably mention eating people & violence, as well as Callan's usual shapeshifting to have too many limbs/eyes/etc.
The fog wall imperceptibly rolls back after everyone arrives back on dry land, back to the safety of Aldric's Grove, where the scary wet creatures cannot get anybody anymore.
Well. All except one scary wet creature, who realises with a start that the fog wall is passing over his head, stopping in its roll-back at the opposite edge of the lake. Which means he's free. He can leave the lake.
Finally.
Thus does this half-corrupted Thing haul himself out of the lake on long, spindly human limbs and scuttle through the woods, making a three-day journey in the record time of about four hours, plowing over trees in his wake. And when he arrives at the Grove, he still doesn't stop moving; a blur of black is all anyone will see, a strange shape in the daylight, as Callan skitters forward and then pitches himself into the well.
...
Anyway, good luck with that, y'all.
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[This is like four people, Callan.]
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[ Callan is getting a little head bonk. He's so excited to share his friends. ]
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[Why the fuck are you like this. Also, bonk bonk bonk.]
Funny names for people these days, Little Sea Creature!
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Would you like me to throw a big dinner? I can invite the friends I want you to meet. »
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[Moder sighing in the distance like—]
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[that's it, that's what he's chosen. Big roast. :)]