#onebyonestarter

[steiinerisms]

& | askthegirldetective

“Not too much longer and we can all  go home. GOD I hate this place, I’m  never getting on a boat again.”                            

[stardustveiinsarchive-blog]

&. perditioner (actually painreception)  ♡’d!

      “Are - are you okay?”

(Her voice is cracking - not the best method of comfort, but  give the woman a break. She’s drunk as hell and just found  out there was yet another killer on this godforsaken island. )

[stardustveiinsarchive-blog]

&. steiinerisms  ♡’d!

     “I...I uhm -- I really fucked up earlier.       What’s the mood like downstairs?”

[angelsencyclopedia-blog]

(;; open to the verse)

She’ll admit to herself, she’d expected to receive visitors much earlier.

How many people were dead? Eight? People’s friends, family members,  and now they were dead. Her fault. 

Grace expected people to be mad. The bruises on her wrists and the matching handcuffs were testament enough to that, she supposed, but  it wasn’t until whoever ran this tiny little jailhouse announced that she  had a visitor that the concept of wrath dawned on her.

She was nervous, to say the least. Shifting in the hard chair uncomfortably, the chains attaching her cuffs to the steel table  echoing softly in the cement room. The visitor’s room.

Now it was just a matter of waiting to see who came through the door.

[steiinerisms]

{ One By One verse starter call for when I get home!!! }

[stardustveiinsarchive-blog]

&. peaceific liked for a one by one verse starter!

    “It was YOU, wasn’t it?!”

The alcohol she’d imbibed (...how much, again? Too much.) was taking its toll, and she felt she couldn’t keep the words in any longer. She should be vomiting all over the floor right now, but instead she was screaming at Noah in the middle of the lobby, not caring who heard or if she was wrong. The stress and fear of the week had built up inside of her, and she’d. had. ENOUGH.

     “You - you killed her! You helped Grace! It’s been you ALL ALONG!”

[painreception-blog]

v. one by one

    erin cries, but it doesn’t really matter. she is still soaked from the shower water. arms had pulled her back when others heard her scream and ran to the scene, but she isn’t sure where she sits now, a couch or a bed or a chair or something. it’s not important. the same images flash through her mind, the feel of cold skin lingering on her fingertips. ( fingertips that now pull a sodden cardigan round her trembling shoulders. ) ‘ but grace --- but she’s --- but we --- ’

    but we were safe now.

[stardustveiinsarchive-blog]

&. open to the verse

    “This is SUPPOSED to be over!      We were supposed to be SAFE!”