voice;

[whathawksdo]

[ How long has it been? About eight days? Nine? Since Hawke had been minding her own business on an errand in Heropa. Eight whole days of total radio silence from her, save for the unfortunate few who ran afoul of her in Pan's jungle. Of which at least one or two was likely not expecting to hear from her again and yet... ]

Word of advice to those who don't realize this, but if you do kill another imPort, try not to bury them.

[ She sounds absolutely haggard, voice scratchy and dry and short on breath altogether. Since, hey, you try being dead and buried for a few days and come out sounding just fine, okay? ]

Because, surprise, we do come back! And clawing your way out of your own grave? You don't even want to know... how inconvenient that is. I could go on forever and ever, but...

[ How about she just doesn't, instead? It's only a weak attempt to make light of it, not a real offer to expand upon. ]

Comments

[mightthinkthat]

Less cursed and now haunted, but yes, the general idea.

[whathawksdo]

Haunted! Of course. That is the better word, isn't it? Shambling undead mage rumored to return to playground every full moon and all.

[mightthinkthat]

Brilliant, I say.

[whathawksdo]

They ought to make a movie out of it.

Or whatever it is they do with stories these days.

[mightthinkthat]

Sticking it on the internet seems the du jour thing to do.

[whathawksdo]

The-- oh, great. I didn't even think to check if any of those brats had a phone.

[ The last thing she needs is her resurrection showing up BlueTube. ]

[mightthinkthat]

[ Thinking along the same lines: ] Well, you can check it now, I suppose.

[whathawksdo]

Ugh, maybe another time. When I'll find it a little funnier, you know, after the entire "ha ha, I died" fact.

[mightthinkthat]

Time, the great healer.

[whathawksdo]

More like, time, the hopefully I'll forget this happened in a year.

[mightthinkthat]

Potato, potahto.