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fuck marry kill
FUCK, MARRY, KILL
welcome to GAME NIGHT at DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES. the game on the docket? FUCK, MARRY, KILL. the rules are simple: roll the game picker wheel three times or just pick three as you'd like, dropping the names in your header comment — icly we'll say they picked they names out of a hat. people respond, comment around, get into fist fights, kiss a little? thread hop and react as you see fit!
(meme threads can be considered canon!)
no subject
Nine months feels like a long time to wait for some bullshit. Suppose that's what mums say, too. That the worst thing that happens here, far as you know?
no subject
[ he thinks it over for a moment. ]
Doesn’t make what you got on arrival less worse, for the record.
no subject
[oh. other times, she's capable of disappearing where she stands. seems a bit too obvious to try that now. ava's turn to examine her beer.]
Nothing happened, really. People weren't shit like you're talking about, maybe because there wasn't murder game stress. I'd say I was lucky, compared to all that.
no subject
[ not the time or place to push, especially with someone as disinclined to opening up as ava. ]
Now we know you’re here, so. Next time we’ll be there.
[ in the auction hall or coffins or wherever the fuck they end up next. ]
no subject
[her stare is brief, contemplative. she's drinking her beer again, getting back to feeling her acerbic self. is it 'invulnerable' if literally nothing can touch you?]
Finding kittens up trees to rescue?
no subject
Not really. [ any time he tried to step up before, he only made things worse. hard to say if it’s better now, when standing trial in the games only distracted from the real killers. when he tried to comfort embry and the shadow slipped out. ] Are you — are you making yourself the kitten, in this scenario?
[ eyes big enough to beg, please do not kill me for saying that ]
no subject
I've had two beers on an empty stomach.
[making excuses. they're flimsy, but she finds she doesn't mind that he can undoubtedly see through them.] I'm whatever animal I want to be, at this point. And you should let your freak cape fly.
[she raises her pint glass aloft. apparently this is something to toast to, on this game night of our lord.]