Third floor up, blood on the door leading into the hall. More blood trailing down the hallway, stopping at one apartment.
There’s a lot of that stuff around here, huh.
She double checked that her power was active and pushed her way inside.
Only a few of the Nine were present.
Huh. So what’s up with the men outside, then? Hired guards disguised as a detective and some other people?
Crawler slept with his ponderous head on paws that were crossed over one another, his back rising and falling with each deep breath.
He was large enough that the highest part of his back rose nearly to the ceiling with each breath he drew in through his nostrils. Only half of the eyes on his body were closed, covered with thick, dark gray lids.
I guess this is the semi-eldritch monstrosity equivalent of sleeping with one eye open.
Shatterbird and Burnscar were on the couch, Burnscar stretched out with her head on the armrest, her feet propped up on Shatterbird’s lap.
Is Shatterbird actually accepting that? She really does not seem like the type to accept that.
She held a graphic novel on her stomach with one hand and created flames in the other, shaping them to match the people she saw as she flicked from page to page. Shatterbird was sitting upright, a novel in her hands.
Sorry, Imp, looks like you’ve got the wrong place. This is clearly a literature club.
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