END GAME: THE COUNTDOWN STARTS

[sailmods]

[the prisoners wake up on cold, hard floors.

the lights are bright, glaring, a sterile cell with sterile bars facing a sterile hall. the prisoners with you, across from you, and no one else. no rocking of a ship in waves, nothing. just the prisoner and their prison.

time passes, one assumes. the rhythmic click of Friday’s heels down the hall. it’s almost like the ticking of a clock.]

Comments

[goodweather]

Phil nods. That's not all of it, though.

One: he passes over a cord, around four and a half feet long, woven from Flan's hair. He'd picked it up for himself obviously, but if they're going to be leaving, then this is getting passed to them.

Two: one last hope. One last blessing. "Knock 'em dead, hurricane."

There. Nothing left to give now. All that he has left goes with her, and then maybe he'll have done one thing right as a father.

[saltwaterlungs]

A small nod. With all he's given already, it has to be enough. One last reach through the bars just to brush against him one last time, and then...

She stands up again, gives him a small salute, and goes off to her fate.