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piratejournal2013-10-20 12:08 am
scurveydog) wrote in piratejournal2013-10-20 12:08 am
Entry tags:
Week 6
[the writing is tight and cramped, blotted here and there as if the Dog is in a hurry.]
Those bastards. I can’t believe this. I’ll wring them dry with their own damn collars.
Listen ye lot and listen well. The fog is comin’ and there be naught anyone can do ta stop it. Whatever ye do, don’t get touched. Run if ye have to. Hide like the cowards ye be. But don’t get touched, or a curse will land on yer head so fierce that
[the sound turns on abruptly and there are muffled voices and footsteps ringing across stone. The writing becomes hurried]
If ye are cursed and the sun rises, don’t
[a door bangs open. There is the shriek of a chair being pulled back, clanking chains and the sound of a fight. A man screams and there is another bang and the sound of something hitting the floor.
A man’s voice: Let’s go.
The chains clink and there is a soft moan as there is the sound of someone being dragged across the floor.
The door is shut. For a while there is nothing but the sound of the wind and the ruffling of pages before all is quiet.]
Those bastards. I can’t believe this. I’ll wring them dry with their own damn collars.
Listen ye lot and listen well. The fog is comin’ and there be naught anyone can do ta stop it. Whatever ye do, don’t get touched. Run if ye have to. Hide like the cowards ye be. But don’t get touched, or a curse will land on yer head so fierce that
[the sound turns on abruptly and there are muffled voices and footsteps ringing across stone. The writing becomes hurried]
If ye are cursed and the sun rises, don’t
[a door bangs open. There is the shriek of a chair being pulled back, clanking chains and the sound of a fight. A man screams and there is another bang and the sound of something hitting the floor.
A man’s voice: Let’s go.
The chains clink and there is a soft moan as there is the sound of someone being dragged across the floor.
The door is shut. For a while there is nothing but the sound of the wind and the ruffling of pages before all is quiet.]
[Voice]
[Winry realizes if no one's there, there's no one to answer.]
Geeze! Can anyone check on him? Does anyone know where he lives?
permavoice
[He's poked through the journal enough to know of the Dog, but not to know what the deal is.]
permavoice
[Winry wonders if anyone would.]
no subject
Given what he wrote last week, and the reputation of the "navy"... the outlook isn't good, I don't think.
no subject
Oh, no.