refiningspacetime: (making a deal)
refiningspacetime ([personal profile] refiningspacetime) wrote in [community profile] fleetlogs 2014-12-04 03:07 am (UTC)

"That's okay!"

He shouldn't be thinking of Hinnom as a maroonblood: the tears streaking through his make-up are yellow as the blood on his hands. But habit is hard to break. "We're not running," Pheres says. "My psionics will handle it. Just, ahh.. think of it, okay? Think it at me very hard."

The words make his mouth dry. He doesn't know the slightest thing about psychics, other than that they're terrifying: if it weren't for the definite whine of drones in the air, he'd never do this.

But at least if someone is going to be rooting through his pan, it's a wriggler. They can't do too much damage, can they?

He can only hope.

Pheres takes hold of Hinnom's hand, and this is all getting very uncomfortably pale, but he ignores the way his stomach is twisting and forces a smile. "Tell me when you're ready?"

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