ahit au for hayley!

[accidentallich]

[Gershom had come to Subcon to get away from people.

As far as he knew, nobody actually lived in the dank, dark forest. That made it the perfect place for a new abomination against nature to hide. He could stay in there and not bother anyone.

And presumably Salvador wouldn't chase him into Subcon of all places... right?

At least, that was what Gershom's intention was. He'd seen the small creatures first, from a distance, and just when he was reconsidering the whole 'uninhabited' thing-

-he found himself stuck in the middle of a bag.

This may as well happen. He's already cowering before Avery makes his entrance.]

Comments

[subconmodo]

[The minions all nod and rush back into their treehouses, leaving Snatcher alone with Gershom.]

Well then. Looks like you've just signed yourself up for an extra job.

[He hardly looks like he's complaining.]

[accidentallich]

I don't mind. They're good kids.

[Morbid, yes. But good kids.]

[subconmodo]

[He could talk about how they're all dead, but given the state of the guy in front of him, Snatcher gets the feeling that it wouldn't have as much of a spooky impact as he would like it too.

Pity, probably, and pity is the last thing anyone in this forest needs.

Unless it's him. Snatcher is, of course, allowed to pity whatever and whoever he wants.]

Better get to writing, then! They're going to be hounding you for a new story every night, no doubt.

Just let me know when it starts to get to be too much.

[It almost sounds like a sweet offer on his part. Almost. The smug, almost condescending tone doesn't help.]

[accidentallich]

I’ll do my best, sir.

[It may be condescension, but it doesn’t change that these are innocent(?) kids who deserve something nice in their unlives. ]

Although I’m more used to writing poetry...

[subconmodo]

[An idea is already starting to form in his head]

Well then... Go ahead and write some of that too. Stories for the kiddos and poetry for everyone else. I'd be more than happy to help you with publishing.

For a cut of the royalties, that is. Ink and parchment are expensive, you know!

[accidentallich]

You would? That's - still very generous of you, sir.

[He's never written poetry for the money anyway, so it's not like he cares too much about that. Besides, what does he need money for now that he's like this?]