maybe you don't understand what i'm going through
Despite it being under her breath, Nate’s hears Luciana mutter clear as day, earrings that he’d never thought about making her words easily audible. Steel eyes narrow at her, a huff of smoke leaving his nose when he finally snatch it, wrapping his hand up in a quick, well practiced motion. ”I was showing it only blood.” Theres no small amount of nonchalance in his voice, the words all but bordering on overconfident, a line he would have gone screaming over if not for the fact that he’d failed.
Then, it was Nate’s turn to watch the others attempted solution, his head tipping to the side as she fiddled with the way. He didn’t voice a single thought though, just silently puffed on his smoke while she worked, gears in his head turning slowly. They’re close, they have to be.
An idea slowly begins to bob to the surface of his mind, his gaze shifting from the block to the statue, then back again. Without saying a word, he steps towards the ripped apart shape of the straw bed, forgoing the makeshift mattress in favour of the blankets themselves. Though there’s no indication anyone has used this room in quite some time, Nate mumbles a short apology, then begins to tear the blanket, fingers shifting into claws to make the tears a little neater.
Hilariously, the only thought in his mind as he moves back to the block is if this works I’m going to be so pissed. Pain still radiates through his hand, and it can’t have been for naught. Nate drapes the cloth in his hands over the stone plinth, cover up the inscription. Then, with his hand still shifted into claws, he tears away the bit covering the word ‘blood’, leaving it on display.
Then, it was Nate’s turn to watch the others attempted solution, his head tipping to the side as she fiddled with the way. He didn’t voice a single thought though, just silently puffed on his smoke while she worked, gears in his head turning slowly. They’re close, they have to be.
An idea slowly begins to bob to the surface of his mind, his gaze shifting from the block to the statue, then back again. Without saying a word, he steps towards the ripped apart shape of the straw bed, forgoing the makeshift mattress in favour of the blankets themselves. Though there’s no indication anyone has used this room in quite some time, Nate mumbles a short apology, then begins to tear the blanket, fingers shifting into claws to make the tears a little neater.
Hilariously, the only thought in his mind as he moves back to the block is if this works I’m going to be so pissed. Pain still radiates through his hand, and it can’t have been for naught. Nate drapes the cloth in his hands over the stone plinth, cover up the inscription. Then, with his hand still shifted into claws, he tears away the bit covering the word ‘blood’, leaving it on display.
it's only me, what you got to lose?
Nate?
