#knightofhonor

[thundersflower]

@knightofhonor

She hands him a plastic bag with a handful of stamps inside.

“Are these yours?”

[fadeoutwolf]

@knightofhonor

Her hands are cool on his forehead, and there’s a mug of hot tea by his bedside table. Next to a carton of cigarettes.

“Heard you got cut.” She murmurs, and pulls back. Wanders to the window. She knows he doesn’t like the sound of concern in her voice, but she can’t quite keep it out.

[thedrownedsoldier]

@knightofhonor

“Uh, ‘scuse me, I think I’m--”

He falters. The hospital’s... not quite right. There’s something--

“Think I’m lost...”

[thundersflower]

@knightofhonor

“Hey, who’d have the keys to the crematorium? I need to get in. For reasons. Bullet forging reasons.”

[thundersflower]

@knightofhonor

“Hey, uh, you’re the resident Weird Cult Artifacts guy, right? Ever hear of a ‘Sword of Obedience?’“

[thundersflower]

@knightofhonor

“I got it.”

[thundersflower]

@knightofhonor

“Okay. So. My horrible, manipulative, evil, crazy mother is back from the dead and it’s somehow my fault. What happens now?”

[cxttonteethviolence-a]

“Can you see that too? That thing staring at me?” - Leonard

@knightofhonor

It was a French term the shrinks liked to throw around anytime Wyatt corroborated a story of some floating entity that one of the other loonies was rambling about. Most of them were in their own heads, but Wyatt saw a few of them. He knew he did. Just as without question, Wyatt sure as shit saw what Leonard was talking about. Instinct told him it was there; reason told him it was shared psychosis. 

“Ain’t nothin’ there, guy.”