That's the only plan we have. I don't know if this place has an out, but if it does, we're not going to find it here.
[And it's a fucking terrible plan, but what's the other option here? Have a nervous breakdown. Listen to the premonition of your own death, your own gut-fuck insanity eating you alive, taking root in your chest and spidering out up your throat when you try and focus on the man who you guilted into his own death.]
[He was my friend.]
[Shuck the spent mag from the rifle. Slap in a new one. Unclip a grenade. Between the thicket of rustling metal, catch sight of it: a crooked-open door.]
no subject
[And it's a fucking terrible plan, but what's the other option here? Have a nervous breakdown. Listen to the premonition of your own death, your own gut-fuck insanity eating you alive, taking root in your chest and spidering out up your throat when you try and focus on the man who you guilted into his own death.]
[He was my friend.]
[Shuck the spent mag from the rifle. Slap in a new one. Unclip a grenade. Between the thicket of rustling metal, catch sight of it: a crooked-open door.]
Door, far right corner. On my mark.
[Thumb the pin loose.]