screwthatnoise

♥ v2

A cold, delicate hand grabs yours and pulls. It pulls, and it pulls... there's a sense of urgency in this icy grasp, as well as a trace of reluctance. Abruptly the hand let's go, right as your vision fades to black, and for a brief moment, only a brief moment, your senses disappear. There's only the eerie sensation of weightlessness before your feet are settled back on solid ground again.

(please join #echolife! ♪)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Coping is listening intently! She wipes her eyes.

"I guess... alcohol was not a good idea. After the water stopped helping, I tried to use that."

[oh god]

Please do not use alcohol on plants, ever. It is a bad idea, that will end badly, in most cases. Please use water, or—hug it. I will get a hug ball from Columbine for Hail, when this is done. But, please do not cope with alcohol, as a regular thing. Moderation is better, and, hugs are better no matter what, usually.

"Eh... The alcohol was helping them... at first... I guess that is a good point."

Just because it helps at first, does not mean that it will help later.

She's quiet. Maybe thoughtful.

... Do you understand what I am saying? There are better ways to do it, that involve things that are not alcohol. So, if you are going to grow things, do it without the alcohol. And, do it with a lot of hope, and love, and support, and stuff. Also, make sure the dirt is good, and that it gets water, and sun, and all of that plant-y stuff.

...she nods! She seems to understand.

"I... I see. The outdoors is great. I can do this... but. I really wanted to share the flowers with the rest of the heart. But every time I brought them in, they died..."

I am willing to bet it is because Zwei sucks, probably. Also, there are things that do need to be fixed in there, but. . .

I believe in you, and your ability to do this, Coping Hail. I want you to go kick ass, and be a badass, when it comes to your hopes, and dreams, and also with your ability to cope, because I know you can be.

"O-okay. Thank you, Tavros..."

There's a tapping on your shoulder.

You're welcome.

[... turning his head to look out of habit even if he can't see.]

Who is it?

You can feel the tip of a cold blade pointed at your forehead.

[oh great

then i guess there is a strongish gust of wind in an attempt to push whatever it is back]

It's pushed back. Coping immediately jumps up.

"It's her. She's the one responsible—"

Whoever Coping is referring to doesn't respond. In fact, she's attempting to dash forward again, presumably towards you, presumably with a knife.

Okay, Coping—I need your help in telling me where she is, and you, too, Janta.

[I AM GOING TO SOLVE THIS PROBLEM ONCE AND FOR ALL, ejecting a ... kitchen knife ... from his sylladex and jumping ... in a way that's not in the direction where he presumably sent the person trying to kill him]

Coping cries out.

"Just get out of here!"

Can you take a foot to the chest, son? Because that's what you're gettin'.

No!

[oof, but okay he's going down because OW FUCKING HELL ALREADY INJURED 8(]

You can't see this fiend, but you're getting a knife straight to the chest.

GET OUT OF HERE COPING—

[FUCK MY LIFE, knife to the chest, but not without stabbing wildly at whatever is stabbing him with his butterknife. Does this mean that I'm dying. :(]

Yes. Yes, it is. When he stabs, it hits nothing. And then someone is trying to pick you up and drag you away before your last moments.

[well okay, you do that person.

DEAD.]

You wake up on your back, laying on something stiff and uncomfortable.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

♥ v2

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