A grumble was heard in the distance. Luther quickly turned his head. You see, despite the imagination being one, there were still darker parts of it. And corrupted figments + sides could still be there. One of the corrupted figments- or was it a side? He wasn't sure- charged into the imagination. Luther growled, drawing his sword.
Do you how do? I use any pronouns :) Get in losers, we're going napping
Luther knew that he could not let the figment charge any further. He felt that he needed to protect the others. So he charged in himself. He kept on attacking it... at least until its claws struck across his eye. He hissed in pain, stopping for a moment.
Last edited by Ignorance on Tue Feb 23, 2021 8:43 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Do you how do? I use any pronouns :) Get in losers, we're going napping
Luther paused for a moment, before sighing sadly and nodding. The scar did hurt. A lot. And he wanted to be carried by Romulus so badly. But he absolutely hated being seen as weak. Was he really weak..? He figured that he was, considering how that monster had hurt him...
Do you how do? I use any pronouns :) Get in losers, we're going napping
