8th Wave

[tentacruelest]

Th' next time this Barge feels like poking around in my head, I'll be keeping to my quarters. The lot of yeh - useless dregs not fit to scrub a floor. It's bad enough I'm locked in here with you, I don't need to call any of yeh friends.

[Private to Bush]

Was dealing with me yerself so difficult that you sought to work through less offensive channels, Captain?

[Private to Arthas]

A word, my king.

[Can you feel that heavy sarcasm, Arthas?]

Comments

[tentacruelest]

I hear the wounds and pain in yer voice, Iris Wildthyme. Yeh are too old for this world. How long before all wonder goes out for yeh and all that's left is boredom and indifference? Is that why yeh are so unaffected by my threats? Will the screams of your adopted boys fall on deaf ears, as they did not two weeks ago?

[routemistress]

Longer'n you've got the patience for, Spongebob, no matter where.

Birds to feed. It's been... something.

[tentacruelest]

Go. Ye'll hear from me again. Or from those I send to deliver messages to you.

[text/some time later]

[routemistress]

no. it's not fair that anyone else should have to deal with you because I failed to keep my big mouth closed. I picked the quarrel and you can take it out of me. if an apology is insufficient you may take your satisfaction some other way.

yes, this is an apology. I should have left you alone.

[text/some time later]

[tentacruelest]

I don't recall ever seeing the slightest twinge of remorse from you, Wildthyme. This is a momentous occasion.

[text/some time later]

[routemistress]

I apologised for chucking marbles at you, that time.

I'm not willing for someone else to get it in the neck because I speak before I think. I shouldn't have spoken at all. Taunting you's not what I'm here for.

[text/some time later]

[tentacruelest]

You are one of a dozen souls hauranging me at ev'ry turn. I am fed up with it all. And I am not merciful.

[text/some time later]

[routemistress]

I don't need mercy. But you can take it out on me, not any bugger else.

[text/some time later]

[tentacruelest]

A soul given is not the same as one taken. I know your heart, Iris Wildthyme; despair is found in the fates of your friends, and not your own.

[text/some time later]

[routemistress]

You know nothing about me or my friends. Well, I apologised and made the offer. On your own head be it.

[text/some time later]

[tentacruelest]

I can promise you one thing; whatever else happens, it will not be boring.