My reach is global. My Tower, secure. Who: The Candy Twins What: Just stuff. Where: The Ratcatcher When: Wednesday evening Rating: Low/Medium, mostly for language Stauts: Ongoing
For someone who had constantly been on the move from town to town since before puberty, being forced to stay in this nightmarish fishbowl for going on two months now was it's own form of legitimate irritation. As if there weren't enough reasons to hate Marrowood. The atmosphere invoked it's own sort of claustrophobia that Gretel was finding difficult to shake- coupled with waiting for the shoe to drop again- whether it be another period of monster-filled darkness, violent ghosts, or whatthefuckever, they all knew it was coming. But when... helpless waiting was about as much fun as sitting in this stagnant pond of a universe in the first place.
At least they tried to keep busy. Hansel was pulling out of his rut, knowing he had a steady supply of medicine that didn't require going back to that horror-house of an asylum, and they'd both been keeping busy. Well. Relatively busy. What the hell else could they do?
Get 'jobs'?
She shouldered through the tavern door, backlit by what sunlight made it through the never-ending cloud cover, and made a bee-line toward the booth they'd practically claimed as their own- already there, Hansel's mussed hair and broad shoulders hunched over what she assumed was a drink. Sliding her bow to the wall-side of the table, she sat across from him, letting a look wander toward the bar to decide if she wanted one too.