BOAT: THISTLE

[crittersheep]

[ You’re in a sleek, gilded reception room aboard a large and - aside from your team - empty ship. It’s full of fabulous kitchens (splattered with blood but still usable!) and ballrooms (full of instruments, all playable!) and glittering spires and stagnant-smelling but comfortable sleeping quarters. When nobody is using the intercoms to speak, a tune hums through.

Other than that, there’s thick mist surrounding everything, a path lit only by the ship’s signal light as it travels toward whatever it is you’re in search of and away from the home you can never return to. Waves crash gently against the hull, growing louder and fiercer as time goes on, and there’s faint wailing and howling in the distance…what is going on in this sea? Well, it’s not very important to you. What’s important is surviving.

You have a life to live. ]

Comments

[pictureimperfect]

[wehhhhh

curls up against him]

You gotta let someone bandage you at least.

[survivaltricks]

[Flora is working on it even though he told her to focus on Yata and Odin and Tyr and herself first]

. . . had worse. I-it'll be fine.

[pictureimperfect]

Yeah well I've had worse too! Does that make me fine?

[survivaltricks]

[UUUGH CAN'T ARGUE AGAINST THAT]

[gives Yata a squeeze]

I'll hold still 'f you do.

[pictureimperfect]

[...glances over the railing]

...Kay.

[survivaltricks]

[NOT TODAY, SIR]

[this restraint has the bonus benefit of keeping them warm via body heat]