🐦 for . any muse of your choosing. fear?
i’m pretty sure u can figure out who is who ajdjdjd
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🐦 for . any muse of your choosing. fear?
i’m pretty sure u can figure out who is who ajdjdjd
CONTINUTED FROM HERE || @yourdarlinghost
The Host raised a brow over his blindfold, an arched thing. They took in what they could picture of the second Host, inexplicitly seeing how they held themselves away from him. Cute, really. “The Host notices that his counterpart seems uneasy by his presence. What could be making them so disconcerted?” Came the narration, followed by calculated, light footsteps forward, closer. They moved around the uncomfortable Host and just took them in silence, soft descriptions falling out of his lips now and then.
A sharp-toothed, wide grin lit up the younger Host’s face. They stopped in front of the Host, hands behind their back as they finally spoke again. “There is no reason for The Host to be worried. The two Hosts could help each other... this meeting is not a happenstance.” No, not a happenstance at all.
‘ don’t be scared. ’ — @yourdarlinghost
" Nobody who has to start a conversation with 'don't be scared' is ever actually not scary. " He's stopped backing toward the door, at least. But that's definitely a lot of blood you're standing in. He can't see what - or who - it used to be, but he can see the handle of the bat in your hand and he can fill in the blanks well enough for himself.
" You, uh, seem like you've got this well in hand, though. No reason for me to stick around. I'm sure they deserved it." Whatever you needed to hear for him to make it out of this freaky ass encounter alive, thanks.
“The Host believes he has a solution.” Solution to what? Who knows. What’s The Host doing in prison, anyway? — @yourdarlinghost
@yourdarlinghost
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The rain pounded the walls of the prison. Rec time was being spent in cells. It was fine by Yancy. He had one or two little projects he wanted to work on, and it was easier to do so when the metal door was closed with no one able to sneak in and peer over his shoulder.
That would be how it would work normally, expect his door was unlocked and a figure was stepping inside.
"Hey, I didn't think youse were 'sposed... To..." What started as a light-hearted tease aimed at a guard trailed off into a spike of terror when Yancy actually lifted his head and looked at the newcomer. "What - what the fuck. Youse ain't - how is - the fuck is - this is -" In a panic, the prisoner began tripping over his words as his mind frantically tried to word any of the thoughts bouncing in his brain like trying to watch the old DVD logo hit the corner of the screen.
Thankfully, the tall, spooky stranger spoke, and Yancy's thoughts all screeched to a halt so he could finally get a coherent sentence out:
"A-a solution? Look, uh, youse might have the wrong cell. I don't know no one called 'the Host'. Matter of fact, I think there ain't anyone in here whose going by a name like that."
“The Host is NOT a control freak.” — @yourdarlinghost (well… about that…)
@yourdarlinghost
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"Th' Host just tugged off my wig, sayin' it didn't suit th' 'fengshui' of th' boardroom," grumbled Wilford. "An' ya also said I can't use my favourite glittery pen ta sign th' document."