And let the costume party commence ...

[apocalypsos]

*glares at all of you*

If you're expecting a happy, shiny hostess, you're all out of your goddamn minds. Bar is in the back. Pool table's to your left. Jukebox is to the right. And if any of you pull anything, I swear I'll shove the closest weapon so far up your ass, you'll think you swallowed an armory.

Like you're not all dead already anyway.

*grabs a bottle of tequila*

*heads off with gun in hand to watch the door for suspicious characters gunning for my son*

Comments

[laurelin-kit.livejournal.com]

*dark look* There are too many dead for me to remember them all. My only hope for the living is to get out of the hellhole of Britain and back to the hills of Sarmatia.

[wal-lace.livejournal.com]

If you choose to forget the dead, you dishonour them. They are too many for one man to remember, but you may at least make a beginning.

[laurelin-kit.livejournal.com]

The manner of their deaths dishonored them. Fighting an unjust fight for a country not our own, under a corrupt Empire that should have ended long ago. Their graves mark the hill above the Wall, a constant reminder. I may not remember their names, sir, as sometimes they were not alive long enough for me to know them, but I know what they were and I know what I am, and I'll be damned if I join them there.