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The School, 12 AM by anonymous (gen)
#c:gen
#ch:alex
#ch:jonas
#f:oxenfree
#n:yuletide
#t:fic
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It’s a bit like tuning a radio without knowing where you’re going to stop.
5 years ago
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zeiat
i guess you could say i’ve a call by endquestionmark (Alex/Clarissa)
#c:f/f
#f:oxenfree
#n:♥
#p:alex/clarissa
#t:fic
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The lanterns of Clarissa’s eyes, like some dreadful deep-sea fish, the salt and rust that Alex can taste in the air, the cadence of her voice like Morse code from a long-dead transmitter: Alex is suddenly desperately sad, both that she doesn’t understand and that she doesn’t know how to try. The two of them are stranded on opposite sides of an unbridgeable chasm with only the rattle of each other’s radio static for company, and all Alex can do is lie there and meet Clarissa’s deadlight stare, untold fathoms bearing down on them both. [WARNINGS: blood, lots and lots of body horror, and possible consent issues]
7 years ago
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zeiat
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-f:oxenfree
c
:f/f
c:gen
ch:alex
ch:jonas
n
:yuletide
n:♥
p
:alex/clarissa
t
:fic