Here they are, stranded in a wasteland of their own making, with only a suitcase covered in viscera to show for their efforts. It's pathetically small, these victories, but Venom will have to take them as they are.
The fruits of their half-completed mission hefted in his bionic, smoking rifle dangling tautly at his side, Venom trots through a field of broken limbs and lacerated flesh to bend by Eli's side. Pebbles of white dot around her like diamonds; he's reminded of the folklore of the kind youngest sibling who dropped jewels from her lips with each good word spoken.
In this case, perhaps she's paid for each death with her broken teeth. If so, Venom should have every bone in his body broken. Equivalent exchange.
"Eli," is what he finally says, breathing in the sulfur-thickness of the air. "We need to leave. Come on."
His practicality nearly borders on callous— where is his softness to compensate for the hell he's thrown her into?— but the furrows along his hard-cut expression speak to a melancholy that he doesn't articulate, and the quiet hand that tries to pry the smaller figure from the still-twitching corpse feel for any breaks in her body, and injuries that he'll have to be mindful of as he carries her through this warzone.
once again, so sorry for the delay...!
The fruits of their half-completed mission hefted in his bionic, smoking rifle dangling tautly at his side, Venom trots through a field of broken limbs and lacerated flesh to bend by Eli's side. Pebbles of white dot around her like diamonds; he's reminded of the folklore of the kind youngest sibling who dropped jewels from her lips with each good word spoken.
In this case, perhaps she's paid for each death with her broken teeth. If so, Venom should have every bone in his body broken. Equivalent exchange.
"Eli," is what he finally says, breathing in the sulfur-thickness of the air. "We need to leave. Come on."
His practicality nearly borders on callous— where is his softness to compensate for the hell he's thrown her into?— but the furrows along his hard-cut expression speak to a melancholy that he doesn't articulate, and the quiet hand that tries to pry the smaller figure from the still-twitching corpse feel for any breaks in her body, and injuries that he'll have to be mindful of as he carries her through this warzone.