Warehouse 178

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Shh, keep your voice down.

Warehouse 178 is a safe spot where all assassins, necromancers, and villains on the run come to meet, discuss plans, and hide.

Rules

No cursing, and no naughty stuff (Kissing is ok, But I doubt anyone would want to do a storybook.)
Winterfell is cold.




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Points 529
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Kirsten: *Slips into a chair* I hear you can help me out.




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???

I sit on a foldable chair, and face this stranger. My black Motorcycle helmet covering my face. Hey, it was the most effective disguise.

"What do you need help with?"
Winterfell is cold.




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Gender Female
Points 529
Reviews 45
Kirsten:I need a place to lie low. I don't want my friends finding me...Word is this is the place to go.




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???

I stare at her, on the inside of my mask, a look of confusion is plastered on my face.

"Why? If they are your friends, why hide?"
Winterfell is cold.




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Gender Female
Points 529
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Kirsten: I lean back in my chair and stare out the window. "It's safer for them right now if they aren't around me."




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Nulwin: Ah, excellent! Finally a place to hide from the council and plan out my next move.....where are we, exactly?
"The Imperial need for control is so desperate because it is so unnatural. Tyranny requires constant effort. It breaks, it leaks. Authority is brittle. Oppression is the mask of fear. Remember that." -Karis Nemik

she/her




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Jackie

"we're in a warehouse underneath a train station. Crazy right? I probably shouldn't say crazy . . ."

I see a new figure. I sit straight in my foldable chair.

"Welcome."

My motorcycle helmet is quite hot, oh my gosh. Oh well. I'm kinda used to it. I mean ever since the incident. Meh.
Winterfell is cold.



"The trouble with Borrowing another mind was, you always felt out of place when you got back to your own body, and Granny was the first person ever to read the mind of a building. Now she was feeling big and gritty and full of passages. 'Are you all right?' Granny nodded, and opened her windows. She extended her east and west wings and tried to concentrate on the tiny cup held in her pillars."
— Terry Pratchett, Discworld: Equal Rites