deercountry | but sometimes you meet someone and your guts just burn (OPEN)

Rose wished she could say she'd never seen anyone like this--waterlogged, pale and icy from cold--but the simple truth was that she'd seen far too many people like that bobbing in the North Atlantic. As soon as she saw the person, she turned and started to walk away as quickly as she could. Even as she walked, she kept casting glances backwards. Whomever it was seemed to be following her path exactly.

But then she looked back again and the person was gone. She breathed a sigh of relief and started walking normally again, thinking that perhaps she was being paranoid. Who would follow her around? She was new here, she barely knew anyone. Surely she hadn't offended someone to the point of reminding her cruelly of the dead. Had she?

Rose turned her head to look behind her again, just to be on the safe side. The person she'd initially seen was gone, that was true, but someone else was keeping pace with her again, despite what seemed to be a twisted ankle from the way they were walking. Rose felt her breath quicken and her instincts screamed at her to run.

So she ran as quickly as she could, taking turns down streets and alleyways, only to be followed by what looked like an elderly man. And he was running, running faster than she was, closing in on her fast.

She screamed for help, praying that somebody would come to her aid.

Edited 2022-02-11 00:35 (UTC)

After her recent announcement over the network, Laurel had primarily focused on putting her idea into place, wanting to make it happen. It doesn't mean that she stops her nightly patrols of Trench, looking out for any danger and making sure that the people of this place were safe. Laurel has been here long enough to understand that strange things could happen here without much warning and she wanted to make others aware, especially those who were new arrivals.

She was about two hours into her patrol when she heard the scream. Until now, everything seemed fine and Laurel had considered going back to her apartment. That thought is quickly replaced by her determination to find the person who had screamed, breaking off into a run towards the source and praying that she wasn't too late.

Eventually, Laurel came across Rose and a man who seemed determined to chase her down. She barely has any time to react, moving quickly between Rose and her pursuer, hoping to stop him.

"Cover your ears!" She shouted over at Rose, hoping the woman will do that. Then Laurel opens her mouth to use her sonic device, sending a large shockwave in the man's direction. It's a loud, piercing sound and prolonged exposure wouldn't be good for anyone.

At least the wave knocks the man back temporarily.

Rose knows nothing of any announcements over the network. She can barely make heads or tails of her omni as it was, she can see the capitalization and grammatical errors in her text replies to others but had yet to reach a critical mass of shame to do something about it. And what was happening...the stalker made Lovejoy seem like a pleasant dream.

She doesn't know what she can do but scream and hope that someone heard and...what? Rescued her? Shouldn't she be able to do so by herself? Life after Titanic, possibly, but she hadn't been so aware of how in over her head she was until this.

Rose looked terrified, afraid that she'd never get away from this person and whatever it was they wanted to do to her. She feared that it was far from pleasant. She'd been one of 1500 who'd went into the water, one of six who was saved but Rose fears that her luck has run out.

But that's when Laurel comes in like an avenging angel and she follows the other woman's instructions instantly, covering her ears and shouting back, "They're covered!" And is in awe at what the other woman can do.

Temporarily may give both of them the chance to escape? She takes one hand off of her ear and reaches for the other woman's hand instinctively. "Where--where do we go, where can we hide?

The truth is, Laurel doesn't know where they can hide, but she would find a place. She holds onto Rose's hand tightly with the intention that she'll keep holding onto it to make sure they didn't lose each other. It doesn't matter to her why Rose was being chased in the first place, and Laurel can only imagine how terrifying it has been for the other woman.

"We'll find somewhere, okay? It will be okay." Laurel replies in a reassuring tone, leading them down the alleyway as quickly as possible. "My name's Laurel by the way. What's yours?"

She asks, quickly looking behind them to see if they were being followed. No sign of the man yet, but it was only a matter of time before he would chase after both of them. Laurel is prepared to use more lethal force if she has to, though she would make sure that her companion was out of harm's way first.

Rose was still far too unfamiliar with the Trench to know where to go. Did this world even have policemen? But she held on equally tight to Laurel's hand, feeling that there had to be strength in numbers. Maybe the person following her would give up now that she wasn't alone?

"Thank you. Thank you so much for your help," Rose gasped out. And she couldn't help being reminded of her and Jack's attempts to lose Cal's servant in the bowels of the Titanic. "Rose. I'm Rose Dawson. I am terribly new to this." And she glanced around herself, hoping that implied the entire place.

So far, no sign of her pursuer yet. Thank God. She was afraid to hope that they'd given up. The entire thing made Rose painfully aware of how defenseless she was and she couldn't help being deeply grateful to Laurel for help.

But then she glanced behind herself and there they were again, stalking her like an animal with its prey.

"You're welcome." Laurel says with a smile, glad that she had reached her in time. "I wish I could've met you under better circumstances Rose, but sometimes, things like this happen." Not all of the time goes left unsaid, but they don't have a lot of time. "I have a friend here who is also called Rose."

She turns right into another alleyway, looking over her shoulder again. "It's hard being new, but there are good people in this place. They look out for each other."

Laurel makes a left turn and that's when she can hear footsteps behind them. Rose seems to have had the same idea to check again and it kicks her into high gear, moving faster than before.

"Can you run, Rose? We need to go as fast as we can if we're going to outrun this thing. If not, I'll try to stop them again and you just keep going, okay?"

Rose's brow furrows. "You mean, someone awful stalking people happens often? She's more than a little horrified. Her mother would say that she shielded Rose from the worst of the world, but Cal was the worst of their world. Rich, arrogant, and cruel. "Oh? I suppose with so many people here, there has to be at least some people with the same names."

Rose follows eagerly, still clutching Laurel's hand. "I'm so glad you're one of them. I'm afraid that I'm rather on the helpless side"

The sound of footsteps made Rose feel as though her blood had been replaced by ice instead of the opalescent blood she now had. And Rose is fast on her feet even though it had been condemned as Not Ladylike.

Ladylike could go to Hell.

"Yes. Yes, I can run," Rose gasped out, stealing another look at their follower. "But I can't leave you behind!"

There were so many awful things that have happened here and Laurel has experienced at least one of them. Everything else she had heard about from people who have been in Trench longer than Laurel has.

"You're not helpless, okay?" She replies firmly, but with compassion. "Just in a bad situation." Which she is determined to get the both of them out of. No matter how long it takes her.

"Good, that's good. Keep that up." She encourages Rose with a smile. "Don't worry about me, I can handle myself. I promise."

Down they go another alleyway and Laurel can hear the footsteps behind them getting faster and faster. She does her best not to panic, knowing that one slip up could put them in real trouble.

"Maybe getting to higher ground will help. Or somewhere we can board ourselves up in."

The Trench. Even the name sounded unpleasant and like nothing of value could be grown there. This land may be my land, but she's never seen the grain rippling fields of it, only enjoyed its harvests.

"I'm--I'm not? How," Rose gasped out, feeling a stitch in her side, only convincing her further of her own weakness. Laurel seems to be feeling no such pain, nor fear. Shouldn't she at least try to follow the other woman's example.

So that's what Rose did. She ran. She kept up to the best of her ability. This wasn't outrunning Lovejoy, this was outrunning death incarnate. She'd done that once before, surely she could do it again? Right? "And---I suppose, but I'd worry."

Alleys look painfully similar in the Trench and Rose had to wonder if that was the same with all alleys in every world at every time. Ridiculous ponderings which were best saved for another day, another week. After she and Laurel were safe and sharing stories over a beer. They'd make it. They had to.

"Higher ground? I'm up for anything at this point, pun unintended. Boarding up works, too, I've never used a hammer but it can't be that hard."

"It's nice that you'd worry, but honestly, I'm good." Laurel insists with another smile. It gives her a clue into the kind of person that Rose is, and they could have a proper conversation later when they were in a better position. Now was about getting somewhere safe.

"Whatever comes first, we'll do." Higher ground gives the advantage of seeing the lay of the land and boarding up means they could probably outlast what was chasing them.

She has a sound knowledge of the streets because of patrolling them often, though it was easier to navigate through them when you weren't being pursued by someone else. Laurel doesn't allow her thoughts to drift to that, and keeps her cool as she leads them into a more open area, quickly looking around for a suitable building.

"Okay, okay. Just a little more." Laurel says, momentarily catching her breath but not stopping. "Can you keep going?"

She has asked a lot from Rose in the past ten minutes so checking in on her was important.

"All right. If you're absolutely certain..." her voice trailed off, clear that she herself wasn't certain. She hated the idea of leaving Laurel behind to contend with whatever it was that was stalking her. Them, at that point.

"I'm ready for either?" At least that's what she says. In truth, even Lovejoy hadn't wanted to hurt her (much), he wanted to deliver her back to Cal like a kitten who had strayed too far.

And Rose was thoroughly lost by that point. Beyond lost. She resolved with herself that if they survived this, she would treat Laurel to a good meal somewhere and she'd learn how to navigate this vast, peculiar city on her own so that she knew for herself where to go if in danger.

Rose nodded and gasped out, "I can," despite her own fears.

She had to curse herself for being so terribly helpless, resolving with herself that she wouldn't be in the future.

Laurel would never say no to a good meal and some nice company. She could always recommend a place for them to go to or they could have some dinner in her apartment. Of course Laurel doesn't know where Rose is living so her own place in Willful Machine would be perfect.

"Good. We'll be okay." She assures with a smile, then spots a building that looks viable for them. "Over there! That building seems intact." Without glancing behind her, Laurel steers Rose towards it, still holding onto her hand.

"It won't take us long."

They just had to push themselves a little harder.

Either one would work for Rose, although she'd prefer the nicest place possible. She's found a number of geodes and she polished some seashells, so she has good things to trade in exchange for a good meal and a bottle of wine. She's been staying in a small, studio apartment in Cellar Door, but she'd like to find an actual house in Gaze.

"I trust you. We will!" Rose gasped out, trying to smile back. She fears that it looked more like a rictus than anything. When Laurel points out the building, Rose breathes out "Oh, thank God," and gives the other woman's hand a squeeze of gratitude and relief.

"How can I ever thank you?"

Yes. She can do that. She pushed herself long enough to be saved when the Titanic sank, she can push herself long enough here, too.

Rose knew that Valentine's Day was fast approaching and she looked at it with askance, given that her Valentine was dead. She knew that Jack would have wanted her to get on with her life, he'd told her as much before he died, but the idea of romance seemed too raw. Perhaps she could fill her life with friends, instead?

The problem was, she wasn't sure how. She'd been friendly with a few of her fellow finishing school girls, but she never felt as though she could confide in any of them. Appearances had to be maintained, after all.

So despite herself, she didn't let herself yearn for friends too openly.

And for some reason, she was experiencing intense pain. She hadn't fallen or twisted anything and she did her best to check her teeth, but the pain wasn't coming from any of those places. It felt as though her guts were trying to rip through her skin and she was so busy wincing from the pain that she didn't even notice when she was about to collide with someone.

Now that her daughter's with her in this place, it's extremely rare for Rose to be apart from her. She sticks to her like glue, protective, terrified that something may try to take her daughter away again. Sharon may be nine years older now, hardly the little girl Rose was expecting to see, but she's still terrified something may harm her.

Still, there are times they're apart for a little, and Rose is always nervous during those times, fretful. She's walking through the city now with her hands tucked into the pockets of her long tan overcoat, face tight with a tension. The woman's frowning to herself as she moves, and she almost doesn't notice the fact that someone is about to make contact with her.

Thankfully, she catches it in her peripheral quickly enough that she instinctively reaches out to grasp the young woman's arm — not hard at all, just enough to steady her a little.

"Whoops— didn't see you there." The words are kind, and Rose almost smiles, but..... she immediately notices something's clearly wrong. The look on the girl's face....

"Hey, are you all right?"

If Rose's own mother ever appeared, Rose would do her best to steer clear of her. She'd given up on her mother when the other woman seemed content to let the steerage class die as long as First Class didn't give up its supremacy. So Rose had told her mother good-bye and went to save Jack, a steerage passenger. One Rose loved.

But for a mother and daughter on good terms? Fretful while apart would make sense since there would be no way of knowing if each other was safe at all times. Rose is wearing her cloak from when she first washed ashore, a pair of thick denim jeans, and a white sweater. White seems irrational, given all of the potential stains, but she figures that was where the cloak came in.

The other woman's grasp keeps Rose from falling on her face. For that alone, she's grateful.

"No, no. It was my fault, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going," and she does her best to look normal.

"I--I don't know? I hurt, like my stomach and guts have ripped themselves loose. I tried to eat and I had a club soda, trying to alleviate the pain, but. Is that a common occurrence here?"

The concern in Rose immediately blossoms, so fast it almost staggers her. Her eyes widen, clearly very worried to hear what this young woman is describing.

"Strange things do happen to people here, but I haven't heard of this before." She admits worriedly, brow furrowed as she leans in closer to the girl, her voice tight with that concern. It could be.... so many things going on, here; Rose has only barely scratched the surface of how this place works, herself. It could have to do with blood types, or something she ate earlier, or... this place simply doing something horrible to her.

"It's all right, we'll figure it out," she says, voice softening as both hands gently grasp the girl's arm now. There's something almost protective to the gesture; Rose won't hesitate to jump in and help someone, and being a nurturer is the most instinctive thing for her.

"How long has this been going on?" Has this poor girl been wandering alone all by herself, trying to find help?

Rose looked positively miserable and she'd been clutching her stomach. The pressure didn't make it any worse or better, but she didn't know what to do other than request a bucket in case she got sick.

"Strange things? I hadn't heard of any before," Rose replied, still looking miserable, her brows furrowed tightly. "I'm still awfully new, I barely had time to find a flat before all of this happened."

"Thank you. I'm very grateful for your kindness. I don't really know what happened, only that I can't seem to make it stop," and Rose instinctively leaned into the touch. She'd been so used to her mother's coldness that another woman's warmth was irresistible.

"Since this morning. I woke up, had some fruit for breakfast, and decided to see what this place had in terms of clothing and it just--happened? And she has been. She still didn't feel comfortable asking for people she just met to help.

The poor thing... she really is new. Rose's worry simply pinches harder within her, and she's biting down on her lower lip for a moment, light blue eyes casting a glance around. Her hands don't leave the young woman, simply maintaining that almost protective stance towards her. So many horrible things could happen to someone new to this place — wandering out all on their own.

There's a moment when that helpless feeling bleeds through, the one that catches in Rose's throat, makes it feel tight, her breathing strained. She doesn't know of any doctors around here, barely understand how the rules.. the magic of this place works. What this girl is dealing with could be very severe indeed, and she doesn't know exactly how to help her. But that feeling won't leave her stagnant; no, Rose is a woman of action. And her first nudge towards action is to take the girl somewhere safe off the streets, get her off her feet.

"Is the place you're staying near here? If not, you could come back to my home and I could try to take a look at you, if you'd be okay with that. I'm no doctor, but I have some medical supplies."

She knows she's a stranger, that there's no reason to trust her, but her eyes are soft and sincere, and she gives the girl's arm a gentle squeeze. "I promise it's safe. My daughter's there, too."

Ridiculously new. She worried to herself that she'd never get used to the Trench, that she'd never get used to the slowly emerging powers within herself. She heard whispers from the minds of other people and at first was afraid she was going mad. That was before she did a little research and pricked her finger with a pin, the blood turning almost opalescent as it dripped down.

She'd be embarrassed to know that just as the thoughts of others were becoming known to her, hers would be equally known. She'd read about Freud and psychology and had been trying to apply those teachings to her own scenario, that she was deeply lonely without Jack and didn't know how to approach others to ask if they'd be her friend. She'd never really had friends before, only companions in finishing school. And she appreciated Rose's efforts to get her to some modicum of safety.

"No. It's in Cellar Door, but Cellar Door is too...loud and exhuberant for her taste. She'd like to live in Gaze, where she could devote herself to research about how and why Trench came about, but she was having the hardest time finding the right door. "I trust you. Please take me to you home, if it's no inconvenience."

She reached up to cover Rose's hand with her own, to give the other woman's hand a squeeze in turn and nodded. It must have been a relief, to have someone here with the same experiences.

Rose is extremely relieved to find that the young woman agrees to come with her. If she didn't feel comfortable with it, Rose would just have to stay with her to try and get her to safety some other way. She's absolutely not going to leave the poor thing alone.

So there's a touch of that relief in her smile, and it warms all over again as she keeps the girl close, starts moving with her that way — albeit carefully, not wanting to rush her in her pained state.

"It's not far from here, and it's in the safest district, Crenshaw. It's near the orphanage, where it's nice and peaceful." She finds herself speaking quietly along the way, soothing words, hoping to distract the young woman from her current state.

"I'm Rose. Rose Da Silva. What's your name, darling?"

Rose didn't know this place or all of its tricks at all, but the other woman reminded her of someone. Someone stronger, someone who should have been there for Rose, but wasn't. Someone who wouldn't have sold her to the highest bidder. And she was dreadfully unprepared for all of this and was painfully aware of that fact.

She can't help but lean into Rose a little. Both because of the pain and because strangers might look at them and see mother and daughter, not to be disturbed or trifled with.

"Oh. Crenshaw. One I haven't visited yet. I keep house in Gaze, I'm trying to learn more about how Trench came to be. Perhaps a fool's journey, but one I feel I must take." And she's very much distracted.

"Rose Dawson. I'd say that you have a pretty name, but that would be awfully self-serving, wouldn't it?"

Rose is perfectly willing to keep the young woman close, and Heaven help anyone who would try to bother her, now. She may not have powerful supernatural capabilities like the majority of others do in this place, but she has her Momma Bear Side, and that can certainly be dangerous enough, when it needs to be. No one will harm this girl, not when she's with her.

"I don't think it's foolish at all. It sounds very wise of you, honestly. Learning more about this place is a really good idea, something I need to do more of myself."

Rose smiles again, before the girl reveals her name and she gives a soft sound of surprise, eyebrows lifting. "Oh—! A fellow Rose." She gives a soft laugh, amused, and feeling a small dose of relief that the young girl is able to be light-hearted despite the pain she's in.

"You know what...? I think I like the idea of being self-serving. It is a pretty name and it's a pleasure to meet a fellow Rose."

And it suits the girl, she thinks, with her beautiful red hair. Rose is still smiling as she leads her through the peaceful streets of Crenshaw and to the cottage where she and Sharon live. It's small but cosy, the little porch well-lit, inviting. Rose gently ushers her up the stairs and through the door, careful with her.

"Just through here...! Here's the living room, darling. You can sit down nice and comfortable." Her urge to Mother Hen is strong, and Rose is moving around as soon as she helps the girl sit in a comfortable armchair. "Has the pain gotten worse, or is it about the same as before?"

Rose wished that she didn't feel so helpless, but she worried it would become a feeling she'd be well acquainted with, even more so than when she'd been sentenced to marrying Cal Hockley. There were so many people from...her future who knew things that she was going to have to learn from scratch. How to cook, how to clean, how to burn on her own without Jack's fire matching hers.

"This place is...unimaginable. To me. I'd read 'The Time Machine' with the Morlocks and the Eloi but it seems like we're all Morlocks and we're all Eloi at the same time. No money to worry about or grow arrogant on, but I'm sure there are other ways for people to feel arrogant. There always are."

Rose smiles tremulously back. The pain was still monstrous and she truly didn't know what had caused it or what to do about lessening it. "I'd toast to being self-serving, but I'm not sure that I could drink something without getting sick from it. But it is a pleasure to meet you, too."

Rose always wondered which had come first, the hair or the name. She guessed that it was the name, the flower names were popular with those of her class, countless Roses, Lillies, Hollies, and Pansy here and there. But she was lucky to be born with such red hair and like it or not, she looked like her mother. And it's an adorable cottage, cosy indeed. Sometimes, a person didn't want for more, didn't need more. And she appreciated beyond words the care Rose was taking with her.

"All right," Rose said faintly, plopping down into an armchair with a complete and utter lack of grace. Her old dancing instructor would be ashamed. "It's--it's about the same? But I don't know what it's for."

Rose had always had a sweet tooth. Her mother had shamed her in the past for it, making certain that Rose only had the smallest of dessert portions. Even fruit was disdained.

But she was far, far away from her mother. Even before arriving at the Trench, she'd reconciled herself to never seeing her mother again. So why not have a few sweets now and then?

So the being with the chalice, odd in appearance they may be, but they'd arrived just in time to sate her cravings. Rose easily pricked her finger with a hair pin, marvelling at the way it turned milky white and almost opal in sheen, dripping the bit of blood into the chalice. She was given a large array of chocolates. Now if only she had someone to share them with. After all, part of the fun of sweets is sharing them with others.

((OOC: good with white chocolate, caramel, almond, orange, strawberry, coconut, and peanut butter!))

She might hear a footstep behind her, and if she glances over her shoulder, she'll spy the good doctor who helped her up the shore when she arrived, though today, he sports a rather stylish wide-brimmed black leather fedora.

"I would recommend anything but the vanilla creams," he says, completely serious, even a little unsettled. "I wouldn't recommend the peanut butter cups either, though it has a far less troublesome effect on whoever eats one." He'll reach up and remove the hat, uncovering a pair of cat ears, covered in soft fur about the same shade as the rest of the hair on his head.

She does, indeed, and she's glad to see him, moving in closer to offer a hug, if wanted. And the fedora doesn't raise an eyebrow, it's rather fashion-forward, but nothing too peculiar.

"Do I have any of the vanilla creams?" She poked at the description of what went where, looking for vanilla cream to no avail. No vanilla creams, thank God.

And she raises her eyebrows at seeing his cat features, though there's no condemnation in her voice or demeanor. "I suppose that it could be worse? Cats are rather sweet and people love them. At least they're not dragons or unicorns or some fanciful being with no bearing on the truth?" But what is the truth here?

He might stiffen a little at her touch, but he'll lean in slightly and slip a fatherly arm behind her back, purring softly in his throat. Did he just do that? He might catch himself and tamp down the sound, almost self-consciously.

"It's not the first time I was turned into a cat or given the features of one, thanks to some enchanted sweets," he muses. "I thought I knew better, but I suppose even the wise aren't immune to their desires. Or to having a sweet tooth.

"You'll find the truth here has a far broader definition than what you're accustomed to. And while I'm on it, I've been teased about being feline, but this stretches the metaphor to the absurd."

She's not unused to such reactions, the society could be very touch-adverse when it came to things more than a firm handshake. And the purr comes as a surprise, but maybe it's thanks to the cat ears.

"Not the first time sweets have done such a things? That is...beyond anything I've ever heard of before, outside of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream.'" Though, a cat was far superior to a donkey. If she ever turned into a donkey, she'd have to hide herself from the public.

"I should certainly say so. May I ask of other such incidents? I would like to know what to watch out for." And another set of locks for the house she was staying in.

His ears may twitch slightly toward her: clearly, they aren't merely cosmetic, but a part of him.

"Hmmm, you'll find this place to resemble a cross between that Midsummer's Night Dream and The Tempest and more. The fanciful for most worlds is the norm here. Though that does nothing to detract from it," he says.

"It happened in the last days of the dream that birthed this world. A lady whom I was friends with was trading canned goods for some of her chattels, and that included some peculiar hard sweets. She'd been a good friend, so I traded with her. To my amusement and puzzlement, after eating some, I found myself turning into a half-cat, half-man creature, if you can imagine a man with the ears, limbs and tail of a cat. I suspect the creature who's been sporting with us by offering us chocolates may have concocted those same sweets."

She was almost tempted to say that they were cute, but she doubted that would get a positive response.

"Then I suppose I should be glad that those are two of my favorites of Shakespeare's. My world is entirely ordinary, though, I've heard about magic in other worlds. Both good and bad"

"I'm glad that there was at least some amusement there. I'm afraid that I may have screamed and refused to go outside and face everyone. You're far braver than I am. And damn it all, I'd wanted chocolate. Do they have candy stores or general stores here?"

"There are a number of people from worlds where magic is part of the fabric of that place. I'm not one of them, though I have an open spirit toward it," he says. "From what I gather, though, the good or the ill in the magic comes in the reason for which it is used, not necessarily the process itself.

He may unconsciously lower his head, ears twitching forward, almost invitingly.

"There are some exquisite shops in Willful Machine. The best I've found is The Amber Teapot, close to the center of the district: besides an eclectic selection of chocolates and sweets, they have an equally eclectic line of tea blends.

"It's all so unbelievable until I see solid evidence of how real it is. My world is terribly boring, and...maybe that's why I've been afraid to see what it is that I can do. I've barely even tried to scratch the surface. I never wanted to be normal, not by the dictates of my class, but normal compared to a whole? Perhaps. And does your world have fairy tales?"

She wants to reach out and pet those ears, especially with Mellody chirruping encouragement. So, she reaches up towards his ears.

And Rose beams. "That sounds ideal. Exactly what I'm looking for! I spent more than enough time in Europe to develop a distaste for plain tea. Earl Grey is my personal favorite."

but sometimes you meet someone and your guts just burn (OPEN)

Impending Intimacy

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(CW: Titanic death count)

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Mother's Mercy

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(CW: Titanic death count)

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Apologies for the slow! Feel free to ignore this if you prefer!

No worries! I live the backtagging life. ❤ (CW: blood)

Thank you for your patience! I should be picking up speed again now! ♡♡

It's all good! I simply enjoy playing with you, whenever you have the time. 💗

Same here!!

Yaaaay!!

The Chocolatier (CW: body policing/shaming, blood)

[CW: partial animal transformation]

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