Let Me Live

Indie . Priv . Sel . Multimuse for muses from Resident Evil, written by Light, She/Her, 30+, MST. Mobile banner credit to celestrahl

[biohvzvrd]

Indie . Priv . Sel . Multimuse for Resident Evil Written by Light, She/Her, 30+, MST This is a sideblog and will follow back from @cybrvce

[ carrd ] [ memes ] [ open starters ] [ wishlist ] [ screencap sideblog ]

Mobile header, pinned post graphic, and icon by @celestrahl

Fighting bioterrorism with: @shadowatmorning / @tempesttragedy , @celestrahl / @nd9642, @tv1rus, @replicae

[biohvzvrd]

Thinking about writing my Hugh Hefner-esque Oswell Spencer and my OC child of his.

[biohvzvrd]

Oswell E. Spencer and one of his children, Ren Ishikawa

Spencer was always striving for more, seeking answers, power, knowledge, while also indulging in hedonism to whatever extent he desired. Not a kind man, but, especially when young, knew how to keep that side of him under a more polite, charming exterior. He does not care about anyone else.

Ren learned early who his father was and, after research and digging for secrets, what he was doing. He is brutal, vicious, trained in guns, swords, and hand-to-hand combat. Good st keeping the horrifying sides of him under wraps, even to those he (pretends) are allowed close to him. He does not care about others. Wants to continue his father's legacy - but also maybe wants to kill him for abandoning him and his mother. Hates that Wesker beat him to it.

[biohvzvrd]

You drool in your sleep.

Carlos for Jill

Sleep themed sentence starters

She hadn't meant to fall asleep. After the mansion, Jill has been on high alert, hyperaware of her surroundings, the buildings, the people, herself. Her hair sticks to her neck and feels like the ghostly brush of undead fingers. Her clothing rustles against her leg and she jerks it away, reminding herself that the rotted teeth and fingers aren't there. They were left behind in the mansion, destroyed in the explosion.

But it's never that easy, is it?

The tension that's fitted itself between her shoulder blades and the set of her jaw has started to ease with Carlos nearby. She's safe, he's got her back. He's helped her more than a few times, showing that he's dependable. Zombies have shown up in Raccoon City, too, Jill's home for the last several years, proving that the safety of the familiar can always be invaded. But Carlos is here. Something in her brain is drawn to the way he protects everyone he can. Including her.

Proven by the fact that she's fallen asleep next to him, her head resting against his shoulder. It's the deepest sleep she's had in months, and it only lasted about an hour, maybe a few minutes less. But it's enough to feel rested - and like she could fall asleep again without worry.

At his comment, gentle yet teasing, she sits up and wipes her chin and mouth with the back of her hand. It comes away dry save for a bit of the lingering stickiness of her chapstick. "Are you sure it wasn't you that was drooling?" she teases back. She rolls her shoulders and exhales a slow, even sigh of relief. Her small smile is natural. Her neck doesn't feel as stiff.

Safety feels so good.

[biohvzvrd]

I did writing today, more than just one thing, heck yeah I'm so back

[biohvzvrd]

[ S ] meets [ R ]'s lips on the dance floor of a crowded club. tae + leon at STAB's club, while blending in and keeping their eyes and ears on a target :3c

Wherever We Are

When Tae had first taken Leon here, explaining that it's a front for STAB but still a nightclub in its own right, he'd been kind of blown away by it. It's easy to assume that something being used as a front would have all the superficial credibility of a money-laundering laundromat back in the US, but this is a damn good nightclub. That first time, he'd thought to himself, 'I wish I'd found a place like this when I was at the academy', but the truth is, he has more of a presence in spaces like these now that he's met Tae. When he was younger, the worst he'd done was try weed all of one time. He didn't even really go to bars.

But these last several years has seen his feet crossing the threshold of more than a handful of clubs, always at Tae's side. Other clubs are just for those times when they can relax, don't have to work, when she insists that he needs to loosen the tension on the knots between his shoulder blades by going out with her. He used to put up more resistance, but he's grown accustomed to the pounding beats and the thrum of fruity drinks vibrating through his veins - even if he doesn't really do any dancing. Most of his finer movements are saved for training and jobs, not his awkward-ass trying to move in a swathe of people to a rhythm he can't find. (He can drum on his steering wheel in time to the beat of his music, but his feet are something else entirely.)

Leon knows this song, one from Koda Kumi that isn't his favorite but serves a purpose in a scenario like this: Bassy, catchy, has people on the dance floor shouting along to 'The boys like bad girls!' Tae sings to it while she takes his hands to try and lead him to the dance floor, and although he may not resist much anymore, the dance floor still isn't somewhere he feels comfortable. Tae would look much better without her statue of a husband being practically stationary beside her.

She keeps her hands in his, though, and rolls her body to the rhythm, flirty and cute and absolutely trying to get him to follow her. His smile melts into laughter as he says, "Alright, alright," knowing she can't hear him but can read the word on his lips all the same. He can't dance so he sways a bit, bobs his head to the beat, tries not to be embarrassing. Tae always smiles brighter when she manages to get him to join her, and that's worth it to him. Keeping their hands joined, she raises them in the air and dances closer, embodying the dancer she is.

The song changes to one he doesn't know, but he can hear the lyrics well enough over the beat to catch that it's less risqué and actually pretty sweet. Releasing her hands, he lets one fall to her hip, the other tilting her chin up to look at him instead of the middle distance her gaze finds when she's lost to the rhythm of the music and her body. She's breathless and grinning, and it's incredibly romance movie cliche that the lyrics say, 'I see nothing but you, dancing, a kiss, then dancing - kiss, and again dance' as he starts to lean down to do exactly that - the kissing part, anyway - and is only slightly surprised when Tae takes his face between her hands, lifts herself onto her toes, and meets him halfway to kiss him firmly, playfully, passionately.

[novelresilience]

[Text: Billy]: I'm almost home, I'll see you in a few.

The message is sent without hesitation as their neighborhood comes into view, and she pockets her phone into the pocket of her BSAA issued sweatpants. Night is rolling in as the sun is almost below the horizon. The discharge process had taken longer than she'd hoped, and it's a heavy realization that her daughter is likely already fast asleep for the night.

She's exhausted, fatigue still clinging to her limbs as she slips from Claire's car, a thank you for driving her home and reassurance that she will be fine from here given as she does so. A small backpack slung over her shoulders, medications from the hospital inside. Carefully, Rebecca tucks the crutches she'd been instructed to use for a few days to prevent her stitches from opening under her arms.

It doesn't surprise Rebecca in the slightest to see the door of their home open, Billy standing there waiting for her. She'd texted him while in the hospital, once stable enough to do so. The entire string of events had been a whirlwind, and she couldn't help but feel horrible at how much she must have worried him. Following the attack on her lab, she'd called Billy from her hotel room to let her know that she was alright. She'd let him know she'd be joining Chris and his team on a mission. Texting him again from the hospital hadn't been planned, even if they both knew the risks of this line of work.

She'd given a brief summary in her texts, that they had ended up in the outbreak in New York City. She'd told him about being infected, about the graze gunshot wound to her leg- but not about how she'd ended up there. The details of her being abducted were best kept until she was home safe.

With careful steps, she makes her way up, a small smile pressed upon her lips that she hopes hides the exhaustion and battle-torn look that's surely clinging to her. "Hey," She starts, desperately wanting to just hug him, to feel him against her and know that she'd finally, truly, home. "Thank you for staying put instead of showing up and getting yourself arrested again." The BSAA had been monitoring her hospital stay much too closely for her to be willing to risk him coming. "Can you help me in? I just.. I just want to be with you right now. Is Sadie asleep?"

@biohvzvrd

[biohvzvrd]

From the moment Rebecca's text came through that she's on her way home, Billy has been anxiously standing by the front window, watching from between the curtains for her arrival. He's usually not this anxious, this willing to run headlong into a potential re-arrest because he's a fucking idiot, but her being in the hospital, injured, infected, made him nearly drop everything to go to her. It's lucky she sicced Claire on his dumb-ass before he'd woken up Sadie and jumped in the car, or he may very well have shown up at the hospital. He's pretty sure that his name and face have faded enough from the social zeitgeist, and that he's changed his appearance enough, that he wouldn't be recognized, but there's always the chance some true crime fanatic or someone who's had his mug shot imprinted in their mind could be there.

It's a risk he's long come to accept. As much as he's made himself change, there are some things that can never be altered.

Once Rebecca's slipped from Claire's car, he pulls open the door to greet her. He smiles gently, worry creasing the line between his brows. She cracks a joke that might not actually be a joke, and he huffs a soft laugh. "It was a close one. I'd have-" been there, no questions asked, but they both know that, so he stops himself. After she'd reported him dead back in the summer of 1998, he's learned how to keep his head down, blend in, not draw attention. But he'd be lying if he said there weren't those times when he nearly threw himself into the potential danger of being caught because she's been hurt. "Thanks for keeping me in check."

As she draws closer to the house and asks for help, he doesn't hesitate to do so, stepping close and bracing his arm around her waist while trying not to be in the way of the crutches. There's the small step inside the doorframe, and then she's inside and he closes the door before returning to her. "Yeah, she fell asleep a while ago. I haven't told her you were hurt, didn't want her to get scared." He'd nearly woken her up when he got the text, but decided to let her rest.

"Couch or bedroom?" He helps to where she chooses, then quickly makes her some tea and returns to her side, putting his arm around her and letting her lean against him however is most comfortable. He doesn't want to bombard her with a thousand questions, but he also can't help it. Shot at, infected, hospitalized. Only the sight of her has taken his nerves off the edge they've been vibrating anxiously on, knowing she's come back home to him and Sadie.

[biohvzvrd]

Once upon a time, there was once a mighty knight of white. Her hair gleamed silver in the moonlight and her eyes a raging blue with the sparkle of starlight. However, the knight was the daughter of a witch, an enemy of humanity. And when the world found out, the knight became its enemy and she was driven into hiding.

The knight had fallen in love with a normal man and from that union, she was with child. Unfortunately they were torn apart when the world turned against the knight.

The knight sought a hidden, mysterious village where her mother once found refuge. Her path had been frought with danger and so the knight needed to fight her way to get herself and her unborn child to safety. Despite how humanity treated her, if she should come across an injustice during her journey she would do her best to rectify it, because the knight would always be chivalrous and kind. The knight had the heart of a hero.

One day as she sat, exhausted, next to an ebony tree, three droplets of her blood fell onto the snow and the knight looked at them wistfully and said, "I wish this child to be born healthy and safe. For her hair to be as dark as ebony, skin fair as snow, lips red as blood...what a fine child that would be."

The knight finally reached the village, overlooked by a beautiful castle, where its mistress would welcome the knight in her final moments as she birthed her child. The knight made the lady promise to look after the child in her stead, before passing away in sadness and regret.

And that was the story of how Alcina Dimitrescu wound up with a fourth daughter, little Emiya, so named by her birth mother.

Random asks are love incarnate!

Alcina still remembers the woman that knocked desperately at her castle doors all those years ago. White-haired, fair-skinned, heavily pregnant and already deep into contractions. The baby hadn't started to come yet, but it had seemed that, no sooner was the woman taken to a spare room and made comfortable that things progressed - quickly.

Hers had been a long, arduous labor, filled with crying, screaming, squeezing Alcina's daughter's hands, while Alcina had taken care of instructing the young mother through labor. Before meeting Mother Miranda, Alcina had spent a handful of years as the village midwife among other odd jobs, and there is little about this process that she had forgotten. The sight of bloodied bedsheets doesn't erase easily from one's memory, even after so many years of immortality and not performing these duties, nor does the sound of desperate screaming and pleading.

Many hours passed in which the woman fought hard to bring her child into the world. Soothed by Alcina and her daughters, brought water and cold compresses, reassured that things would be alright. Of course, there were no guarantees of the latter, but a mother told of a positive outcome oftentimes feels less inclined to give up when birth is so very, very difficult.

The morning had come, slivers of sunlight filtering in through the sides of the curtains that Daniela whisked shut the rest of the way before returning to the woman's side. Finally, the child had come into the world with healthy lungs and reddened cheeks. She had a swathe of deep brown hair matted her head, and lovely eyes that Alcina caught peeks of as she cleaned the baby and swaddled her.

"You have a daughter," she said, holding the tiny bundle out for the woman, but there was little strength to be had in those exhausted limbs. Not just from childbirth, but from the ferocity of winter, fighting for her life, not enough food. Survival had taken its toll on her. Instead, she raised one trembling hand and brushed the back of her fingers against the baby's cheek. Tears streamed down her own cheeks.

"Emiya," she said weakly. "My baby...Emiya."

Alcina nodded and kept the baby close to the woman. "And what should I say her mother's name is?"

The mother's eyes never left her daughter's face as she parted her lips once more, but no name came from them. Only a soft exhale, and then her hand fell to the bed, blue eyes clouding over yet still fixed on her baby.

Her daughters stayed still, and not a sound filled the space until baby Emiya began to cry again.

----------

Alcina has told this story to Emiya hundreds of times over the years, written down the words and bound them into a book when the child was but five years old, illustrated to show the face of the woman that bore Emiya into this world. She has gotten the storybook version, peppered with a few details here and there as Emiya had asked them, but her youngest daughter had been spared most of the more tragic - and bloodier - bits.

The stitches on the book are wearing thin, and one of them has snapped recently due to how frequently it has been read, yet Emiya never seems to tire of the story. When Emiya was eight years old, Alcina started leaving the book in her room so she could look at her mother as often as she liked. So now, as Emiya sighs contentedly from where she's nestled against Alcina's side, she reaches over to set the book on her nightstand where it has stayed for years.

Emiya's eyes close and her breathing settles into an even rhythm. Asleep with a soft smile on her lips. She won't move for now, wanting to ensure she's fast asleep before getting up. And that's alright; she enjoys when her daughters want to be near her.

[ohisms]

‪‪❤︎‬ ˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐖HEREVER 𝐖E 𝐀RE.    (  a  collection  of  65+ settings for kisses.   feel free to reverse the initiating muse.   mature content within.   )

[ S ] kisses [ R ] in the dressing room, the door barely closed behind them.

[ S ] leans over and kisses [ R ] across a table holding an elaborate meal.

[ S ] steals a kiss with [ R ] on the street outside a restaurant.

[ S ] pulls [ R ] into their lap in a seat of [ S ]'s car for a passionate kiss.

[ S ] meets [ R ]'s lips in the back row of a dark movie theater.

[ S ] backs [ R ] up for a kiss at the [ library / bookstore ], in the stacks.

[ S ] sneaks a kiss from [ R ] in the back recesses of a church during prayer.

[ S ] plants a kiss upon [ R ] while dancing at a [ party / wedding ].

[ S ] leans over and kisses [ R ] in the coat check line of a crowded gala.

[ S ] kisses [ R ] in an otherwise empty aisle of the grocery store.

[ S ] kisses [ R ] in a rush before ducking into their waiting taxi.

[ S ] hoists [ R ] up to kiss them on the [ tailgate / bed ] of a truck.

[ S ] steals away for kisses with [ R ] in a quiet room at a house party.

[ S ] meets [ R ] in a kiss on a lively [ boardwalk / fairground ].

[ S ] pulls [ R ] in for a passionate kiss in a downpour of rain.

[ S ] leads [ R ] into [ S ]'s walk-in closet to kiss them in private.

[ S ] catches [ R ]'s lips at the [ subway / train ] station.

[ S ] shares a kiss with [ R ] on the private balcony of a hotel room.

[ S ] presses a kiss to [ R ] against the wall of a public hotel hallway.

[ S ] meets [ R ]'s lips on a ferris wheel, stopped at the very top.

[ S ] sneaks a kiss with [ R ] in a photo booth as the flash goes off.

[ S ] pulls [ R ] into a risky kiss under the bleachers during a game.

[ S ] nervously kisses [ R ] on [ S ]'s doorstep before rushing inside.

[ S ] ambushes [ R ] with a kiss in the locker room after a session.

[ S ] sneakily kisses [ R ] in the back of a class hall during a lecture.

[ S ] steals a kiss from [ R ] backstage at a show [ R ] is performing at.

[ S ] tugs [ R ] in for a kiss against the mirror of a thrift store fitting room.

[ S ] shares a heated kiss with [ R ] on the porch of a snowy cabin.

[ S ] sneaks a kiss with [ R ] in the [ pool / lake / sea ] under the moonlight.

[ S ] tugs [ R ] in for a kiss in the middle of a [ corn / hedge ] maze.

[ S ] pulls [ R ] in for a heated kiss at a rowdy bonfire.

[ S ] pushes [ R ] against an elevator wall for a passionate kiss.

[ S ] leans in to kiss [ R ] on the platform of a fire escape.

[ S ] leans over to kiss [ R ] in a moving taxi.

[ S ] finds [ R ] and kisses them desperately at the gate of an airport.

[ S ] kisses [ R ] on the highest deck of a skyscraper.

[ S ] corners [ R ] for a kiss in a museum after hours, paintings watching.

[ S ] kisses [ R ] in a record store, "their song" playing overhead.

[ S ] pulls [ R ] in for a kiss in the [ greenhouse / garden ] at night.

[ S ] steals a kiss from [ R ] on a bench at the bus stop, rain starting to fall.

[ S ] backs [ R ] up for a kiss in the bathroom of a [ bar / club ].

[ S ] trades a kiss with [ R ] on a [ sailboat / ship ].

[ S ] topples to the ground on top of [ R ] while making out in a meadow.

[ S ] shares a kiss under the sun with [ R ] in a field of wildflowers.

[ S ] presses a kiss to [ R ]'s mouth at the edge of a rocky cliff.

[ S ] steals a kiss from [ R ] on a park bench at midnight.

[ S ] claims a kiss from [ R ] in the backseat of a car at a drive-in movie.

[ S ] kisses [ R ] on an ice rink amidst muffled giggles as their skates wobble.

[ S ] lays a kiss to [ R ]'s lips at the foot of a waterfall.

[ S ] sweeps [ R ]'s into a kiss in their apartment kitchen.

[ S ] lazily kisses [ R ] on the couch of their living room as a movie plays.

[ S ] leans over to kiss [ R ] under a sky full of brilliant stars.

[ S ] catches [ R ]'s lips at the middle of a bridge with water rushing below.

[ S ] steals a kiss with [ R ] in an art gallery, exhibits ignored entirely.

[ S ] leans [ R ] into a kiss atop a picnic blanket in a [ meadow / park ].

[ S ] gives [ R ] a lingering in the parking lot of a movie theater.

[ S ] trades a kiss with [ R ] while sitting on the front porch.

[ S ] steals away for a kiss with [ R ] in the closet at a house party.

[ S ] leans in to kiss [ R ] in a bubbling hot tub under the stars.

[ S ] steals a kiss from [ R ] in a shadowy theater balcony during a play.

[ S ] leans in to kiss [ R ] in the depths of a [ basement / wine cellar ].

[ S ] sneaks a kiss with [ R ] on a hay bale at a pumpkin patch.

[ S ] plants a kiss on [ R ] at the top of a lighthouse.

[ S ] steals a kiss from [ R ] at [ R ]'s place of work.

[ S ] sweeps [ R ] up for a kiss on the steps of a courthouse.

[ S ] pulls [ R ] into a phone booth for stolen kisses, glass fogging up.

[ S ] kisses [ R ] on the steps leading up to their apartment.

[ S ] gives [ R ] a casual kiss in the middle of a crowded mall.

[ S ] meets [ R ]'s lips on the dance floor of a crowded club.

[ S ] hoists [ R ] onto the hood of [ S ]'s car to kiss them.

[ S ] leans [ R ] against the wall of a private stairwell to kiss them.

[ S ] pulls [ R ] into a kiss as soon as the motel room door is closed.

[ S ] shares an adrenaline-fueled kiss with [ R ] in the crowd at a show.

[biohvzvrd]

Thinking about writing my Hugh Hefner-esque Oswell Spencer and my OC child of his.

[biohvzvrd]

RE OC Dossier

Legal Name: Eugenia Lynn Burnside Alias(es): Genie, Gigi Call Sign: N/A

Date of Birth: November 4th, 1981 Nationality: American (current day) Ethnicity: Caucasian Place of Birth: Marseilles, France Current Residence: Washington, D.C. & Seattle, WA

Affiliation(s)/Organization(s): United States Secret Service Occupation: Financial Investigator Rank: Special Agent

Education: Masters in finance and cybersecurity Expertise: Financial crimes and investigations Certification(s): Accounting Award(s)/Accolade(s): S.A.A. (Superior Academic Achievement)

Eye Colour: Blue Hair Colour: Red Height: 5'6" Weight: 145lbs Notable Marking(s): Tattoo of three birds on the left side of her ribs, honoring her mother, father, and brother.

Medical History: Blindness at the age of sixteen; frequent respiratory infections while growing up but are less frequent now Allergies/Intolerances: N/A Infection(s), if applicable: Experimental version of T-Veronica with unstable properties that broke down in her system without causing infection; caused her to lose her eyesight, which lasted for approximately six months. Chris and Claire got her treatment for the blindness, and she gets tested twice a year because she's afraid the virus could someday cause her problems.

[bsaa-missions]

Resident Evil Style Headcanons

💉 Would your muse be in the 10% who has immunity to T-virus?

🩸 How does your muse react to seeing a lot of blood and gore?

🧵 What kind of puzzle would frustrate your muse the most?

📍 What kind of conspiracy theories would your muse have in the RE world?

🧷If your muse could only save one important person in their life (platonic, romantic, business, etc) from being attacked by the infected/being turned who would it be?

🩹What level is your muse's medical knowledge?

💊 If your muse discovered the cure for a terrible disease, what would they do with it?

🩺Does your muse have an aversion to medical specialists/hospitals/clinical settings?

🧶Would your muse partake in a Tiktok challenge concerning the infected/viruses?

🧪Would your muse inject themselves with questionable liquids they found in some lab?

✂️Who is the person your muse would easily cut ties with/betray in a dire outbreak situation?

🦠 What virus would your muse likely contract?

🎯 What is your muse's main ambition in the RE world?

💪Is your muse capable of opening warped doors and cabinets no sweat?

✒️ What would your muse's final note before horribly dying, to be discovered by an RE protagonist, read like to them?

👶🏻Would your muse be willing to have children, if they knew they were infected with something?

💀Which death in your muse's life was the most impactful to them?

💼 What skill from their every day job/life helps your muse survive an outbreak the best?

🏆 What would your muse's campaign finished achievement be called?

☢️When the auto destruct sequence begins in the building your muse is in, do they give up or keep running?

🤝If your muse could pick ANYONE to survive an outbreak with, who would it be?

[biohvzvrd]

💼 What skill from their every day job/life helps your muse survive an outbreak the best? for grace AND billy

Resident Evil Style Headcanons

For Billy, being a marine is a huge help in surviving not just the Ecliptic Express and the training facility, but also his life going forward as a gun-for-hire in future outbreaks. Firearm handling, not panicking easily, staying calm under stress. He might have been surprised when he saw his first zombies and infected monsters, but now it takes a lot more to shake him to the point that he loses his cool. He may be kind of insufferable in some ways, might annoy people who aren't a fan of his pet names and flirting, but he is someone that would be excellent to have in your corner.

For Grace, she would mostly be able to draw on her FBI training. Even as a desk worker, all FBI agents have to undergo field training, including learning to use guns, and infiltration and sweeping crime scenes and such. After the Care Center and ARK, she's gotten better at keeping her nerves in check, which makes her more skilled in the field. Her day-to-day job revolves much more around information gathering, and she's good at finding information about outbreaks. The details may be scarce until people can get in there to see what sort of infections they're dealing with, but she is adept at researching these hot spots, which gives her an edge if she has to go into the field for them, or for other agents who may end up out there.

[nowadayz]

CARLOS OLIVEIRA RESIDENT EVIL 3 REMAKE

[biohvzvrd]

💉 Would your muse be in the 10% who has immunity to T-virus? for carlos

Resident Evil Style Headcanons

I genuinely wasn't expecting anything for Carlos! And honestly, I think it would be interesting if he was, especially because he'd never really find out, at least canonically. I can always have fun with that idea and get our man infected.

So I'm going to say yes. He may not ever find out - it can be explored in RP, though - but yes, he is immune to the T-Virus.

[biohvzvrd]

Inbox call.

Leave a comment on which muse(s) you want something from and I'll send you some memes from your meme tag! Mutuals only, might take a few days.

[frontmansdog]

to be completely honest *starts lying

[biohvzvrd]

∗ 81﹕ sender helps receiver [ dye / style ] their hair . tae @ ashley!

100 nonverbal prompts

Sometimes, Ashley can't believe how long her hair has gotten. She hasn't had a hair cut in years that's been more than just a trim, so it's expected that her hair would be longer - duh - but there are days when remembering her short hair reminds her of just how much time has passed, and now the ends of her hair reach just below her shoulder blades.

Tonight, Ashley is staying at Tae's house, a girl's night together, a sleepover in a way that Ashley hasn't had since high school. Junk food, painting nails, doing hair. The dvd of one of Koda Kumi's concerts plays on the TV and Tae sings along to some of the songs. Ashley's Japanese is still conversational so the lyrics still only half make sense to her, but she's learned the chorus and a handful of lines of some of her favorite songs.

It's nights like these that give her the chance to pretend the world outside isn't as awful as it can be. She doesn't think about work, outbreaks, the nightmares. Right now it's just sitting in front of Tae while the other woman pulls Ashley's hair into a style she can't yet see. It's delicate, meticulous, pinned into place, and Ashley will probably fall asleep with her hair like this he ause she loves when Tae puts such pretty styles in her hair.

At the same time that Ashley readies herself, Tae holds all of Ashley's hair between her fingers, twine in an orderly fashion, as they both do the arm portion of a dance they practiced together years ago. One of the first Tae taught Ashley. Once finished, they both laugh and Tae returns her attention to Ashley's hair. Later, they'll end up doing dances in the living room together in their pajamas. It's just all part of these wonderful escapist nights where it's just them existing outside of who they've been forced to become by their jobs.