Re: Cabin: Juliet & Claire
Grim. Grim as fuck. Claire sat with her back against the door and her voice as reasonable as a drunk rationalizing riding the city subway until four am about stitching herself back together with blood running rivulets down her chest. And for a split-second? Juliet felt as tongue-tied and idiotic about it as she had before she had started to get acquainted with late-night city night-life.
She pushed palms against her knees and rearranged herself so she was near enough to Claire to angle what little fucking light there was on the path of stitches.
"How the fuck you can sew yourself together in gloves is beyond comprehension." And a beat. "It's not real because the shit that came before wasn't real and Repose doesn't get knocked sideways in reality. Someone's gassing us again." Certain, and Juliet's voice throbbed anger. Whoever the fuck was doing it? Dead.