Through the pulse-deep bruise of her chest, through the tinny ringing chorus of close-range hearing damage, above the dull shock of panic still lighting her up nerves, that old drive towards purpose sets in.
She doesn't waste time wondering where it went. Spent enough time thinking lately, and that's rough enough when your skull doesn't feel about to split. It's gonna get dark soon. They can't be here when it does.
In the middle of unknown wilderness, Marlene knows better than to expect that help is coming. ]
Hold this. [ She's pressing an old stone into the nearest pair of hands, heavy as a brick and ripped from the little ruined cairn nearby. It's crumbled at one end, inscribed with deep squiggling lines like snakes. ] If we find trouble, hit it.
[ Not a pep talk for the history books, but it’ll have to do. ]
[ It’s freezing. She’s shivering like a dog, and the stream they've been following hasn't brought them anything except more wet.
But there are more immediate concerns. For the past hour, every hair on her neck’s been standing up with the gut certainty that they're being watched. She's been stalling, trying to imagine what they might be facing, trying to plan. That was a shit idea. They're running out of light.
Better to confront it now, before it's full dark. ]
Stay close. [ Her voice drops. Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel human — but feelings lie all the damn time and she doesn't intend to be overheard. ] There’s something following us. We need to draw it from the group.
[ Marlene's done what she can with what she has, but not standing out was a lost cause from the outset.
She's been lurking by a wall for the better part of an hour, counting the drunks that stumble out of the bustling little inn within. This is a quiet, waterside town. Picturesque. None of it matches the hard look on her face.
A straggler bumbles out alone, patting his ragged, furry coat with a hoarse laugh. The pockets are heavier than when he entered. It's a plush thing, looks warm — and poorly-laundered, and a good dozen years out of style. The tell-tale signs of sila trash. Marlene starts after, her meandering stroll not quite disguising a hungry intent.
Maybe you'll put a stop to this before it starts, or maybe you'll come upon her a few minutes later, wrestling wide-eyed with a furious and improbably wealthy badger in an alley. ]
marlene | the last of us
[ At a certain point instinct takes over.
Through the pulse-deep bruise of her chest, through the tinny ringing chorus of close-range hearing damage, above the dull shock of panic still lighting her up nerves, that old drive towards purpose sets in.
She doesn't waste time wondering where it went. Spent enough time thinking lately, and that's rough enough when your skull doesn't feel about to split. It's gonna get dark soon. They can't be here when it does.
In the middle of unknown wilderness, Marlene knows better than to expect that help is coming. ]
Hold this. [ She's pressing an old stone into the nearest pair of hands, heavy as a brick and ripped from the little ruined cairn nearby. It's crumbled at one end, inscribed with deep squiggling lines like snakes. ] If we find trouble, hit it.
[ Not a pep talk for the history books, but it’ll have to do. ]
b. the woods -
[ It’s freezing. She’s shivering like a dog, and the stream they've been following hasn't brought them anything except more wet.
But there are more immediate concerns. For the past hour, every hair on her neck’s been standing up with the gut certainty that they're being watched. She's been stalling, trying to imagine what they might be facing, trying to plan. That was a shit idea. They're running out of light.
Better to confront it now, before it's full dark. ]
Stay close. [ Her voice drops. Whatever it is, it doesn’t feel human — but feelings lie all the damn time and she doesn't intend to be overheard. ] There’s something following us. We need to draw it from the group.
[ Congratulations, you’ve been nominated. ]
c. titan's eye lake, the empire -
[ Marlene's done what she can with what she has, but not standing out was a lost cause from the outset.
She's been lurking by a wall for the better part of an hour, counting the drunks that stumble out of the bustling little inn within. This is a quiet, waterside town. Picturesque. None of it matches the hard look on her face.
A straggler bumbles out alone, patting his ragged, furry coat with a hoarse laugh. The pockets are heavier than when he entered. It's a plush thing, looks warm — and poorly-laundered, and a good dozen years out of style. The tell-tale signs of sila trash. Marlene starts after, her meandering stroll not quite disguising a hungry intent.
Maybe you'll put a stop to this before it starts, or maybe you'll come upon her a few minutes later, wrestling wide-eyed with a furious and improbably wealthy badger in an alley. ]
d. wildcard me bruh