lepuscorvidae
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The first thing Zolf sees is just a truly distressing amount of blood. It’s seeped into the floor and smeared across the walls.
The second thing he sees is Douglas, very clearly dead and crumpled in the corner. His eyes are open and empty; there is a rich red slash through his neck and into his chest, which only serves to amplify the contrast of the supernaturally blue veins threading his face and hands.
The third thing he sees is Wilde’s body, collapsed about a foot in front of Douglas’, with his back to the door. He does not appear to be moving.
"Shit."
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The week in quarantine after Wilde gets his scar. -
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“Oscar?”
“Hm?” Wilde tilts his head to indicate he’s listening but initially does not look up from the page he’s reading.
“I think— I think I’m gonna have to leave, for a bit.”
Wilde’s blood is chilled by the infuriating infallibility of his intuition, and he closes the book, “Oh, right.”
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Small glimpses of Wilde's life after he saves the world, and after Zolf leaves.
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is love really real, and can any of us hope for redemption? by shofics
Fandoms: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
22 Jan 2022
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“Half a year is a long time to go with no letters, Zolf,” Oscar says quietly.
Clatter, clatter, goes the carriage over the uneven road. “You’ve waited longer,” Zolf says, because he knows Oscar can’t refute it. Oscar lets out a long breath.
“I suppose we both have,” he concedes, and sits back, turning to the window.
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It’s a long ride back to London, but that’s alright. Zolf has something he needs to say.
Bookmarked by lepuscorvidae
22 Jan 2022