- over. Not by a long shot.

"Don't you worry. There won't be any interruptions to service. Well, not too much anyway. Most of the planning for this month is done, so if..." she shakes her head.

"It's all okay."

Whether it's intentional or not, Winni does her best to keep a table between them. Meanwhile, her eyes mostly remain on the object of her attention as hands remain busy with cleaning.

"I'm okay," she offers the words a bit too quickly. The past day had been awful, and it wasn't -

She pauses for a moment before continuing. Without looking at him, she answers in a far more unsteady voice than usual.

"Y-yes?"

She's quietly wiping down some tables in the canteen. They're long since clean, but she doesn't seem to have noticed.

She's been sitting in a room most of the day waiting. Occasionally people have dropped in, asked a few questions and then left.

God...

How did this happen?

-

No amount of breath helped. It barely touched her lungs. God. Where was there air? Why was it so hot?

Her fingers finally pry the phone from her pocket. They tumble over the screen, sending off a short mess of a message.

'He's not moving... Not responding. What do I do? S-3-8b.'

-

"No... No... ohmygod," the patter of her heart feels like it triples in her chest.

He was...

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪.

Sweaty fingers fumble at her pocket for her phone. Unsteady legs wobble her back, and back, away from...

Deep breaths.

Deep breaths, Winni.

-

-
𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵— 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘞𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪.

Leaving her trolley, she inches closer.

"Asher?"

Still as ever.

Daring a little closer, she peers around his face. It's pale, and his eyes are shut as his forehead presses into the table, and something pools just beneath his mouth.

-

-
Something catches her eye. She flinches on the spot, and her humming splutters to a stop.

"God, you scared me..." she sighs to herself while eyeing the figure that was sat hunched over a table.

From the back they looked rather familiar...

"Asher?"

The figure doesn't move.

-

-
The lights sluggishly flicker on as she enters, illuminating a small collection of tables that have been pressed together. Her trolley rattles over the threshold, as she peers across the room while humming a jovial tune.

"Ah—"

-

Having been mucking in with the others and clearing away the leftovers from the various siderooms, Winni ventures into one of the last few rooms on her list.

-

Time to clear up the remnants of the 'moldy' sandwiches.

Well, I'm glad you think they look so delicious! But... Why don't you start with two?

For her little joke today she's delivering some odd coloured sandwiches, and maybe pretending they're mouldy.

Although, that's definitely not the case! They're all safe to eat.

~ 𝖵𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾 𝖠𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍 ~
𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧

𝖲𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝖶𝗈𝗋𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗍 𝖦𝗋𝖾𝗒 𝖲𝗅𝗈𝖺𝗇 𝖬𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅

- Your favourite alcoholic aunt
- Based in Seattle, Storybrooke & NYC
- OUAT, Grey's Anatomy, The Pitt, Station19 etc
- Ships w/ chemistry (prefers b00bs)
- Literate & Descriptive Writer
Penned by #maeve

⟳& ♥︎ 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾!

All of them? Are you sure?

Another batch of sandwiches prepped!

“When things go bump in the night, I bump back.”

An independent portrayal of Elsa Bloodstone. Monster hunter, archaeologist, tea enthusiast, firearms buff.

Another day, another food delivery.

They're warming up a little, and she's finding even the one called Asher isn't as bad as she initially thought.

#SpartanSunday

Soaking up the rays.

#SeductiveSunday

// Independent portrayal of Deltora Quest’s Dain (book iteration).

Shapeshifter masquerading as a human. No longer perfected evil, but a wandering nuisance. Learning what it is to live and to have lived.

✤ Fantasy-based but can slip (almost) seamlessly into any verse
✤ Open to any format
✤ #MVRP

Back on the beach and relaxing, for once

#seductivesunday

She's packing together some more lunches to take down to some of the newcomers. They seem to be faring a little better recently.

Mmm.

Tea.

I'm glad my cooking has been such a hit!

But, I will. Don't you worry.

- was injured. Duncan, I believe his name was, bless him.”

Pausing, she offers a tight apologetic smile.

“It didn’t really end there, unfortunately. A few hours after his operation, someone found poor Duncan had...” her voice tightens at the thought.

“Someone had killed him.”

- if you’re staying on S-Deck...”

Fidgeting with the front of her shirt, she spares a glance over the busy canteen.

“Not too long ago...” she starts quietly. “There was an incident. I don’t really know all the details... some say it was a bomb, others aren’t convinced, but either way a Spartan -

“I really wish I was..." she sighs, brows drawing into a concerned frown.

"Not to make light of all the horrible things she's doing," is hastily added afterwards. Even as she worried about home, it sometimes felt a million miles away.

“I’m surprised they haven’t told you types, especially -