Iris entered the room. She wore an exhausted smile and her hair in a ripped ribbon. Olivia and Terror looked to her. They doubled back, frightened by her appearance. "Where have you been?" Doctor Occipital asked tenderly, taking Miss Print's hands. They were cracked and bloodied. She grinned a crooked grin and replied, "I've been painting. My fists are my brushes and blood is my medium. You can find the canvas yourself." (after she is confronted by superheroes in book 2, forgot she's a…
- ̗̀ @lostwolfie ̖́- Más
((Open with Adam)) I look at my blood covered hand and then at the-once again-open wound on my leg. "Dammit..." I mumble. I try to keep pressure on it, not noticing when you walk in.
And oh, what a mess I've made.
"What happened?" She asked, examining the scratched marks on his collarbones. "It's nothing," he waved her off. "that's all."