I. II. III. IV. V.

❝The septons preach about the seven hells. What do they know? Only a man who's been burned knows what HELL is truly like.❞—{ indie & selective Sandor Clegane RP, read guidelines before following }

Written by Trevor

   Annoyed at the sound of the buzzer at this time of night, Sandor spared no time in throwing on an undershirt to go with his boxers so that he could head downstairs to teach the prankster a damn lesson. Bzzzt, bzzzt, bzzzt! It came over and over, and he was hopeful that they would not run until he answered – so he wouldn’t answer.

   However, when he arrived downstairs, it appeared the asshole had already gone. Fuck. On his way into the elevator, his keys dropped down the shaft. ❝No, no, no!❞ He had no phone, no keys, no bed for the night; and on top of it all, he was in his fucking underwear. He sighed as he took the elevator back up to his floor and realized his only option was to go to his neighbour.

   He’d never met the person, he had no idea whether they were a hot young woman or an old man. But he needed them right now. Sandor knocked on the door and awaited a response.