Vincent just mumbles a response, testingly reaching out one hand towards a tendril as it whips past him. They don't seem to be inflicting physical harm, but--
What was the point of staying up so late anyway? That submission is never going to get accepted. The draft is miserable, and--
...where on Earth did that depressing thought come fr--
"Oh for pity's sake... it's a despondos wraith!" He curses under his breath. "Normally only expect to see ones this fully materialized out in Hollywood..." He turns to the girls. "Don't let it touch you if you can avoid it. These things, for lack of a better term, feed off of hopes and dreams. Even senses of things you want to get done. Some idiots with more sense than skill willingly expose themselves so they can feel better about procrastination... but let them touch you too much and you eventually lose the will to live."
He examines it cautiously as they try to give it some space. "I think I can contain it, but it's a delicate spell. Can you two keep it distracted while I run to my room? Think really hard about things you want to achieve, but don't let it make contact."
(Read comments)
Post a comment in response:
scribbld is part of the horse.13 network
Design by Jimmy B.
Logo created by 
hitsuzen.
Scribbld System Status
