(no subject)

[stbethadettes]

Blessings on this journey.

The nun's mouth contorts to reveal unnaturally pointed teeth, and blood wells in her glowing eyes and drips down her face as the edges of her habit start to burn.

She gets closer and closer, and within seconds there's nothing left of her but all that fire and the fierce glow of those eyes.

Beth wakes with a cry of panic, and for a minute, she's disoriented as hell and can only pick up on the fact that she's not in St. Bernadette's.

I'm back?

It's just this one tiny little hopeful flicker, but she knows she's not back at the bar the instant she looks around. She's on a wheeled bed and (Where are my goddamn clothes?) she's in some kind of flimsy gown but at least it doesn't fall open at the front or back.

And there's Hero, right next to her.

"Where..." It looks like they're in some kind of dungeon. "Where are we?"

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[no-real-hero.livejournal.com]

Thank Christ Beth's awake. Not that she wanted to become a caretaker or anything, but this chick's got balls; she likes Beth. The room's empty except for the bed and a table and some... torches (fucking torches? what is this, the middle ages?) flickering on the wall. By the locked stone archway door, there's a bucket and pail. Someone going to clean up after the torture, maybe?

She's not sure.

"No clue. Some kinda castle from the looks of it." She pauses: the room is almost sterile; five years ago it would've given her the creeps but now it's just one more fucking situation to get out of. "Last thing I remember is those gay conquistadors knocking me out."