"Why in the world would I-... You know what? Nevermind. I haven't gone to Australia, love."

Snorts.

"He does look like one."

Naming things doesn't mean they will live. I mean, my dad had a name, for example.

// kinda want to bring my BG3 oc ;-;

// me estoy ahogando

// i will ☺️

// I'm fine, it doesn't hurt that much anymore ☺️☺️

// bad news is that I burnt half of my hand cooking. Good news is that it's not the drawing hand.

I think I still can.

I just hope it ends me once and for all, but my magic burns it.

For my next trick I might just drink a bottle of vodka by myself and see what happens.

"It's good to see you"

The voice again reached her. Lips unmoving gaze fixed to the remaining alcohol in his glass.

And apparently he was such a good liar people wouldn't even believe him when he told the truth. It made no difference to him, of course. The less they knew, the better.

"I'll reheat it later." For he truly wouldn't be able to hold the stupid mug.

He dared not take it. Not yet.

"I'm afraid that's not the problem… or not entirely."

Fortunately, he was feeling something again. No matter if it was cold or warm. It was something.

"Me? Because I had an epileptic episode and you found me and saved my arse."

+ alive.

"Fuckin' hell..." He muttered under his breath. Then turned his gaze to her. "Thank you for helping me."

Hasn't she found him, things could've gone way worse and that would've meant real trouble.

It would've suited him to die like that. But fate still needed to play a few more rounds of this game it seems.

"I'll be fine, I just need some rest…"

Yet his hands were quite shaky. His nervous system was on fire yesterday… after so long of being dormant, working as it should to keep him +

It's so cold his ears and nose turned slightly red, making him look like he's blushing. All thanks to that british paleness of his.

"I thought being a walking pit of lava would have some bloody perks-..."

"I get it I failed to make it to my appointment..."

That was the real trouble. Although, knowing infernal creatures, having them provoking him another… episode is not off the table.

"Where did you find me...?"

He feels so sluggish.

Monsters. He knows one or two. But more importantly, a few months ago he found an old sigil scribbled on the brick wall of the sewers. Maybe...

"What do they look like? The monsters, I mean..."

Tʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑑𝑦 ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢs ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜʀᴅᴇɴ ᴏғ 𝖘𝖎𝖓.

// by his, damnit

Not like he had the energy to be startled but his, apparently, saviour.

"No shite... What are you doing here?"

𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘦 remained a mystery to him. But wherever that was, it had a bed. Or a couch.

"We've dealt with worse shit-eating bastards I'm sure."

As much as he tried to look uninterested in the matter, John offered his aid. In his own way.

There's no denying it's been a long night. He feels his brain and body numb. All numb.

Who the hell found him? Whoever it was… they did before he could choke on his tongue.

// thanks for being patient w/ me while I try to get back here and write again 🥲