ONE SIN ⋆ TOO LATE

a multimuse blog for devil's elbow as written by ghost ( it / he )

[insainted]

one sin too late ( muses by ghost ) : written for @devilselbowhq

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insainted ( verb ) : deprived from sainthood through insanity.

[folliesofmiceandmen]

where: her apartment with: @insainted (lucy)

he knocked once, and then wondered if perhaps he should have called first. what if she's busy? what if she's not even here? but the cell service still isn't acting the best and danny knows that she said she was fine when they were apart, but there's still the part of him that has to check, that has to know, because if he doesn't, he's going to wonder. so he showed up instead.

he feels a little empty handed. he didn't stop to get her anything, no flowers or candy or anything that might be nice to give to the pretty girl you like, but he's already here, so the time to dwell on it is long past. he's almost startled when the door opens, but relieved that when it does, it's lucy there and not her roommate, who he's still not quite sure likes him very much.

"hey, i-- uhm. i probably should have called first to let you know i was coming. if you're busy, i can come back later, but i guess i just wanted to... see you now that i can do that. uhm... hey."

[insainted]

While she'd taken a day or so to sleep, curling up with Daria in an actual bed and not whatever was softer than a bunch of blankets on the floor, as well as shower and running laundries to make sure they have clean clothes and don't smell as though they've spent a whole week stuck in the community centre with half the town, it had been after all the self-care that Lucy had attempted to text her boyfriend, only to find the service still wouldn't work with her.

It'd been a week since she last managed to talk to him, even over text, because after the initial day, the service seemed to have tanked altogether, and she doesn't know when it might be back. It's frustrating, to say the least, and Lucy had decided that if it doesn't come back within a few days, she'd just go hunt him down instead.

Perhaps Danny had a similar idea, just with an accelerated timeline. Not really expecting anyone, Lucy is just wearing old pyjama pants—probably stolen from Santi years ago—and a tanktop under a thicker bathrobe to shield against the chill, she rips the door open with an annoyed expression that immediately melts away at the sight of her freak of a boyfriend standing there.

Lucy looks Danny's face over as he stumbles through his words—they've been dating for a few months now and yet—arms crossed over her chest. She doesn't respond, initially, then in an instance, she wraps her hand into the front of his shirt, balling it into a fist to all but yank him into the house, shoving the door closed behind him, and immediately kissing him as though her life depends on having her tongue down his throat.

Thing is, although she'd been slightly upset when Danny hadn't been amongst the group that had followed her cousin to the community centre, she realised that he had followed her demand to stay put to a T regardless of the opportunity laid before him to disregard her wishes therein. Lucy didn't brush pats that one at all, it'd been sitting in the back of her head since that moment.

"You're staying here," Lucy murmurs against his mouth, not even a suggestion, a statement, a fact, while taking his cool hands, goosebumps spreading across every inch of skin that comes into contact with his as she guides his hands around her and down into the back of her pyjama trousers to leave there. She doesn't care, frankly, if he has to work or what other obligations he might have, not right now. Under no circumstance is she going to sleep tonight without this man pressed against her, and that's a fact.

[archivedtruth]

Vera desperately doesn't want to have a suspicious bone in her body. Not when it comes to the army. But it's been really, really hard lately. As a kid, if you told her she'd be assigned to Ryō Sasaki's unit, she'd have been thrilled. Proud, even, to think she'd worked hard enough to be worthy of assignment to the squad of someone so respectable. As it is, though, it gnaws like a wound, like a rot she doesn't want to pay attention to.

It feels... cruel. And cruelty is not something Vera ever thought she'd experienced at the hands of the system before. Though she chides Isaac for his anger, sometimes she envies it. She can only imagine the catharsis of allowing that to burn through her veins, across her tongue, to let the world know. "Your food will go cold if you take so long to eat it." she replies instead, sticking her fork into his meal and stealing a bite for herself. She's sort of aged out of being able to use the 'growing girl' excuse, but it doesn't stop her.

And then, because she knows she can't actually avoid his question: "Friends? With Command Sergeant Sasaki?" He is decidedly not dad. He'll never be dad. "I don't think him being our sperm donor gives us special dispensation to get buddy-buddy with him. I don't... I don't know." And Vera hates not knowing things. Typically she hides it well, but Isaac knows her too well to miss the look on her face and the tone of her voice. She's dealing with this situation by distancing herself from it, analysing it, trying to understand it. Anything to avoid actually feeling it.

[insainted]

Vera always makes it clear, even between the lines, when she doesn't want to answer a question, or somehow can't, so while his question goes unanswered, Isaac takes his sister's comments on the temperature of his food as an answer in and of itself, deciding to not demand her to answer it regardless. A simple, brief, annoyed sigh is huffed out of his nose instead, and yet the fork finds its way into his mouth, never breaking eye contact.

Even the quick theft of his food goes uncountered, something so small but yet so Vera, something that he's missed in the years he's not managed to spend time with her.

The answer to his follow-up question pulls a sour wrinkle to his face, however, nose scrunching up in response as he chews. "I meant in general," he tells her, but still, the answer is interesting—and quite revealing, at that. Once upon a time, Vera had vouched for their father, almost loyally, despite having ever met the man, defending him from Isaac's dismay more than a few times. Something changed, and Isaac intends to find out what.

"Sperm donor, is it?" The pointed repeat of her word usage is the point itself, eyebrows raising in surprise. "What did he do? Wasn't the hero you imagined he'd be?"

[insainted]

FRANKIE DESTA ⸻ MAD SCIENTIST  . . .  WITH KIT  ( @murdcrofcrows )

Briar had thought the problem had been limited to her not being able to live in her house until most likely the spring and the majority of the snow had melted—whatever damage had occurred to her home due to the blizzard would be taken care of when it was easier to actually assess the damage. It never occurred to them that there's people relying on them being able to access their home, beyond their auntie and the Jackals. The latter is still an issue, of course, but it's not one that risks anyone's immediate health.

Besides, auntie would understand.

No, ultimately it had been Milo who made her realise the importance of getting at least that part of her house uncovered, sooner rather than later. Despite crises, even if she prefers to just sit down for a moment to process everything that had happened the past week, the extreme physical and mental exertion of the bear hunt, Briar knows that resting is not a luxury she can afford. Others, maybe, just not her. That's the sacrifice she'd made when she took on helping the Burnington community as best she can.

It means that there's no resting for her now, either, why she finds herself on the Mad Scientist's doorstep just after it's opened, this time not to hunt down Miah, but to speak to its proprietor. Not one to really drink alcohol or cause any sort of trouble in someone else's establishment, they'd been directed towards the back when asking for Frankie, and Briar finds themself moving through the depths of the bar that no one beyond employees often see, footfalls soft on the worn wood underfoot, holding the folds of their dress close to them to make their form as slim as possible, working their way through narrow corridors.

"Ms. Desta?" she calls out, ending at the far larger room holding Frankie's chemistry equipment, geared towards solving entirely different problems than Briar's—and yet the majority of it is all quite familiar to her nonetheless. "Ms. Desta," she says again, spotting the older woman between it all and picking up her pace to close the distance between them quickly. "Hi." Biting down on their bottom lip, Briar casts their eyes to the floor for a moment before looking up again, hands behind their back, foot idly kicking at the floor.

They take a deep breath in, filling their lungs to capacity, and... "I'm sure you know that my house is buried and I've already asked Miah to help me get inside because his brother came by for his regular pick-up but then I realised I had no way to get to it, because my house is buried, but also that I'd have no way to help him in the future, at least not until spring arrives and the snow melts, and it wasn't a problem initially, because my sister is letting me stay with her and I love her very, very, very much, but now I can't do anything, because Remedy Roots isn't equipped for the stuff I usually do at home and I can't exactly do it anywhere because, as you know, there's the dangers of fumes with the things we do, but then I remembered you have all this stuff, so I wondered if Miah helped me retrieve my equipment, at least until spring and I can put it all back, can I do my work here, with you?"

[murdcrofcrows]

who: @insainted ( briar ) where: remedy roots

normally, jeremiah would be the one to go to remedy roots and get his hormone replacement medicine but miah has been busy non-stop helping miss frankie at the mad scientist and handling the implications around milano silva found unresponsive at the community center during the storm. normally he would be fine waiting but there was something else he wanted to talk to miss briar about anyways.

milo waited patiently a few steps away from the counter while one of the other employees went to grab briar. he moved forward again when he got sight of her again. "good afternoon, miss briar. i know you're used to talking to my brother but i was hoping i could meet with you about a couple things and see if you got my um, my stuff in?"

[insainted]

It had taken a handful of days before the government had managed to uncover much of Burnington's major infrastructure, and today had been the first day the apothecary had been able to open, after Briar had made sure the remaining piling snow had been shovelled to the side. She'd managed to sit down in the back office for the back thirty minutes, leaving the actual minding of the store to Damo for the time being, when she's called to the front due to a customer asking for her by name.

With her normally unruly head of curls pulls up into a big, equally unruly bun, Briar comes out from the back to see who it is who needs her particularly—and not just Damo or any of the other herbalists or alchemists who can take custom commissions just the same—dark eyes scanning the store. It's not yet quite busy, post-blizzard, so their eyes land on Milo in an instant.

Miss Briar always manages to conjure a smile to their face and a little tingle down their spine at the fun of the manner of address, the way it seems to be unique to Milo and no one else, walking up to him immediately. As he finishes his question, though, Briar finds their smile fading slowly, brows furrowing instead. The thing is, what she provides for Jeremiah—or, Milo in particular—is not something she can do here. The apothecary simply isn't equipped for the very hard, modern science of chemistry required to fill requests that Milo relies on, and although Briar makes sure that she has his requests filled at least two weeks before his brother comes by to pick it up, it does leave them with a bit of a problem.

"Oh," she says, voice quiet, fiddling with and tugging at the folds of her dress as she bites her lip. "Well, technically, I have it verified, but it's at home, and... my home is buried, and I don't know how long it's gonna take before I can move back into it again." But that's not an excuse that will do, not now, for the short term, and certainly not for the long term. Who knows how long they're going to have to stay with their sister for, waiting for the snow to melt? They'd not even thought about the fact that someone like Milo relies on them like this, relies on them being able to operate in their home even beyond the fact that they are currently, technically, houseless.

But 'no sorry' is not an option Briar is satisfied with, especially not with something so vital as this. Something like Milo's health. Taking a deep breath, Briar reaches out and rests their hands on his shoulders, sliding them down his arms to take both his hands in theirs. "Give me a day or two, is that okay? I'll ask Jeremiah to help me dig out what you need and I'll send it along with him. As for future supply..." Briar presses her lips together for a moment. "Let me worry about that."

[insainted]

BENEDICTO MUÑOZ ⸻ SHAMROCKS WAREHOUSE  . . .  WITH LEN  ( @eatabug )

The twins have been working on this particular one for months now, a project that has helped them not just learn how to work together, but integrate them into one well-oiled machine. It had been a test of their combined skill, to tear something so incredibly sophisticated apart, see what makes it tick, learn from it to be able to produce something similar with the same technology going forward by putting it back together—but better.

Gray had already told Benny to come by, leaning back as he watches the code he wrote compile again to flush out any final bugs and glitches that might come up. Line after line comes up green, the colour reflected in attentive eyes as the pen in his hand taps rhythmically against the notepad in front of him, the silence stretching in the room, despite the older man lying back in the chair.

Installing it would be the final and easiest step in it all, simply since they don't have to operate, Afterglow has already done the difficult medical part of this whole thing years ago. That said, it's been empty for a few months, and as the compile keeps running, Gray pushes himself back and away from the desk towards where Benny is clicking on the thin flashlight he picks up along the way.

"Lift the patch up," he says, the second thing he's said to the man since he got here, the first being to lie back in the chair.

[insainted]

DUTCH TAYLOR ⸻ MEDICAL R&D OFFICES  . . .  WITH SIERRA  ( @folliesofmiceandmen )

Isaac doesn't know if he's always been a man of patience or if that's just something they've created of him, but as the nurse had told him to take a seat in an all too familiar place to wait for Dr. Estrada, he took a seat and had since simply... remained there. It's been no more than a week since he'd been officially cleared for fieldwork, and he doesn't exactly know what he'd been expecting, but being back here so soon hadn't been on his list.

His head rests back against the wall as his eyes come to rest on the ceiling without truly seeing it, the only few times in his life where he feels safe to retreat into his head. When they're not actively poking holes into it, when he's alone, without doctors or scientists or engineers messing with him, body and mind.

Perhaps he ought to feel some grudge against Afterglow for what they've put him through all these years, the pain, the brute force training, the way he has blank spots in his mind, like memories stolen out of his head, noted only by the clean spot in a dusty room it's left behind. Before seeing her again, Isaac hadn't even been able to remember his sister's face.

Something shifts in his periphery and shatters his reverie, and before he can really process who, what, or even where, his body has already reacted, a knife flying through the air to embed itself into the door on the other side of the room, a hair away from skewering its unfortunate target.

Registering who the head belongs to comes almost at the same time as the annoyance. "I've told you not to sneak up on me, Taylor," Isaac snaps, getting up to wrap his hand around the knife handle and yank it out in a swift motion. Dutch fucking Taylor. Some parts of them are siblings, aren't they? Or maybe more like cousins. It's part of his existence that makes Isaac's even possible, and perhaps he ought to feel thankful for him for it.

But he's not. God, he cannot stand the guy.

"What do you want now?"

[insainted]

RYO SASAKI ⸻ BARRACKS  . . .  WITH MEL  ( @strcinedhecrts )

The moment he'd heard whose squad he'd been assigned to, Isaac's blood had run cold. On the surface, he hadn't reacted, simply saluted and gone on his way, but on the inside, a storm had been raging. For a while, packing his bags, Isaac had wondered what he'd done to deserve this assignment, where he'd made the mistake, going over every moment of his years of specialist training—however traumatic half of it may have been—to find the moment it had gone wrong.

Even now, as he marches to the barracks where his new squad is stationed, he's coming up blank. Perhaps if he were any other person, he might chalk it up to coincidence, but he'd not been trained to believe in coincidence at all. No, this is something else.

He finds him quickly, walking up to him directly, eyes scanning him as he approaches, confidently and with purpose. His father. It's all he can do to keep a sneer from forming on his face, all he can do to keep himself from audibly scoffing. Dropping the duffel bag of what belongings he had to the floor by his feet, Isaac lifts his hand to his forehead the way he'd been trained to do, eyes looking straight ahead of himself.

"Specialist Isaac Attano, sir," he announces himself, chin lifting slightly, brown eyes snapping over to his father's face briefly before resuming to stare at the point straight ahead of himself. "I was assigned to your squad."

[insainted]

DAPHNE PATEL ⸻ LINO'S PLACE  . . .  WITH SIERRA  ( @folliesofmiceandmen )

Perhaps it had been the fact that the option to see Daphne had been taken away from him by the blizzard, or perhaps it's just because in the heat of the moment, over text, he'd suggested they have dinner together when it's all over. Lino doesn't rightly know, but he's a man of his word, despite everything, he tries to be a man of integrity in that way—it's exactly why he doesn't give his word all too often. But he'd given his ex-girlfriend a time and a date, and it's why he's currently in his kitchen, cooking the dinner he'd promised her.

Regardless of his relationship with his father, he's still his father's son, and both his parents had put upon him the importance of cooking, the joy and the culture of it, which is why, unlike many of the people he grew up with, Lino does actually know how to cook, how to clean, how to home make. He doesn't do it often because he doesn't have to, he pays people to take care of that nonsense, but he's not... helpless.

The food is already well on its way, something simple like pasta carbonara, with the noodles cooking when the doorbell rings. He wipes his hands on a kitchen towel quickly before opening the door, stepping to the side to let Daphne in. "Is the kid okay?" Maybe not something he'd score points with with anybody else, calling your flesh and blood 'the kid', but it's never been something negative in Lino's book. He always asks. Might not usually have time, but he does what he can from a distance.

[murdcrofcrows]

"look at t'at, the hero knows my name. suppose i should feel privileged about that, yeah?" it was a rhetorical question laced in gleeful sarcasm. even though banks was not particularly gleeful, nor were his thoughts sarcastic, it was something he was genuinely surprised about. then again, rafe probably reminded him of it.

it wasn't as if banks knew his older cousin personally. no, he simply knew the myth and absolute legend through the biased stories of his gran and other memories scattered with family and old photo albums. banks had unit mates he's known better than he knew dante winters.

"no," banks answered his question flatly. after all, what could dante help him with? if he needed something why wouldn't he go to the person who's proven to always have his back and vice versa? in his experience, which made it factual for him up until that point, rafe is the only person banks can count on. "think rafe and i can manage, we've done well for ourselves up till now."

he leaned in then and squinted his eyes with curiosity. "unless you want to tell me what was worth abandoning gran over? could've at least told us you weren't dead. think she deserved that much."

[insainted]

Dante narrows his eyes at Banks' words, but doesn't otherwise respond to an obvious scathing jab. It's not a question that needs a reply, both of them know that, and so he isn't going to devolve whatever Banks intended with this into an argument about his feelings on the matter. Frankly, he's too old for that kind of shit.

Instead, as Banks states his negative to Dante's sort-of-invitation for a conversation, he sits up a bit more with a deep sigh. Dante gives the younger man a nod, slow and lingering in its motion, one of subtle agreement in the statement that follows the single syllable. He'd no qualms about it, even if his conversation with Rafe hadn't been quite so productive. The two don't strike Dante as incapable in the slightest; on the contrary, they carry themselves with the kind of experienced intention and confidence one earns only by having fallen and gotten up by one's own strength so many times.

In a way, if situations were different, if sentiments were different, he'd be proud of the two of them. Hell, he is proud, but he knows that neither Cawela boy would quite appreciate that acknowledgement from him.

Then Banks just comes out swinging, directly, with a question his older cousin hadn't even gotten to. Rafe had shut him down almost immediately, had made it clear that he doesn't barter in excuses, and the topic of his auntie hadn't even managed to come up so concrete as Banks put it. Had he abandoned his auntie? Perhaps, unintentionally, by being on an entirely different continent, trying to serve the Commonwealth, as foolish as tht turned out to be. And he's still doing it, isn't he?

"My child," he tells Banks, the same reason he had given Rafe, the reason Rafe had shut him down almost abruptly. Whatever problem the older Cawela cousin seemed to have with him, it didn't extend to Dottie, and trying to hide behind it, as Rafe had put it, hadn't won him any favours. But then, it is the honest truth. "Her mother had stolen her, kidnapped her, and, as it turns out, had attempted to drown her not long after the fact. I'd spent the better part of nineteen years trying to find her. And her mother."

But that's not the least of it. "I wrote every week. But," Dante sighs, rubbing his hands against his face slowly. "Your cousin told me you've served just as I have. And therefore I don't need to explain to you that the Commonwealth Army strictly serves itself. They were the intermediary between us. If your grandmother didn't get any messages from me, it's because the army we gave our lives to didn't want her to get them. Not because I didn't send them."

He drops his hands, a frown deepening lines etched into his face from a lifetime of worry and anger and fighting. "Look, lad. Maybe my apology won't mean shite to you like it ain't mean shite to your cousin, but... for what it's worth. I am sorry. Lot of shite I regret in my life. This is one on a long list of 'em. But my child... she ain't one of 'em, right?"

[eatabug]

❝ what? ❞ for a moment, indika isn't sure what devan is asking him. is he on drugs? why would he be on drugs when he'd just come from the snow? surely he would've gotten lost. when the whole world is covered in white, everything looks like everything and nothing looks like anything anymore. it's too easy to get turned around. he would know, he'd done it with a clear head. no, not clear, was it? clouded by dreams, by river. ❝ no, i'm not―no drugs. it's―it's the cold that makes my glow flicker. or the adrenaline, maybe, not―no. ❞ he says it as if that's what made them suspicious. ❝ no drugs. they're not here? ❞

devan still hasn't answered his question. indika doesn't understand. he'd seen it so clearly. the vision was supposed to take them to river. not to the compound. not to devan. why would the dread father trick him like this? it couldn't be punishment, could it? he's devout. he's faithful. was it because he'd left listener kahn? he couldn't protect the listener. and what was the vision if not a direct message from the dread father himself? he'd only been doing what he thought he was meant to.

so caught up is he in this awful spiral of thought that indika doesn't even realize devan's come closer until they're hoisting him up out of his seat and pulling him into their side when he starts listing unsteadily the second he's on his feet. ❝ i don't know, ❞ indika confesses, leaning into devan. they're a warm, solid presence. he's still shivering. ❝ no, i do know. i don't remember. or maybe i'm not sure? i walked here from under the ground. there was a shelter, but it wasn't a shelter, and the dread father―he told me river was here. he showed me. i thought i was supposed to leave. ❞

he blinks, his shoulder pressing into devan as he tilts his head to better look at him. ❝ is it bad? the snow―i couldn't feel it, not for very long. i couldn't feel much of anything. ❞

[insainted]

Devan's head is reeling, not because the injury is so severe—a fracture is always severe, relatively, of course—but because he can't tell if this guy is delirious, suffering from some sort of mental break, or if this is just his baseline. In the past months since discovering he had a twin in the first place, he's been slowly getting to know River and working on his relationship with them. He hasn't gotten even close to getting to the point where he'd extended his efforts to those closest to them, even though he had heard plenty of things about Indika and Briar both.

He understands that Indika is involved in that cult up north, but he's never looked into their beliefs or what really makes them tick, as that's simply not part of his job, and he never thought he'd be in situations where he'd directly interact with them before River, so the ramblings coming out of Indika sound beyond foreign to him, and he has no real idea how to reply to him, what to tell him to get him to calm the fuck down. Tully would argue he's not exactly good with people anyway, so the chances of setting Indika off more if he engages in it are too high to chance right this moment.

"I'm not a doctor," Devan argues at the question of the severity of the injury, teeth gritted as he utters the sentence, not due to any sort of emotion, but due to the effort of carrying the man down hallways, making sure that Indika doesn't put any additional weight on the leg than he already has. "I'm a soldier, I've seen enough injuries out in the field to know when shit needs medical attention, that's the extent of it."

The thing is, does he go to his squad's combat medics, or head directly to the emergency room for this? They know for a fact that Max and Banks are both on stand-by, just as the rest of them are, but without knowing the exact extent of the injury and how much more Indika managed to exacerbate it by continuing to walk on it, they just don't know if this is something the two medics are capable of fixing on short notice. If he does need surgery of sorts, then the better bet is the emergency room.

But on that hand, he doesn't know just how busy the emergency room is due to the on-going crisis.

There's a deep frown that etches itself in between Devan's eyebrows, as he stops at a T-junction of hallways, a route underground that only Afterglow staff knows about, emergency hallways in case it's not safe to cross the compound in open air. It works in their favour in the current situation, and perhaps this was one of the situations the tunnel system had been created for in the first place.

But he has to make a decision now. Running down a quick list of pros and cons for each option, Devan pulls Indika down the left hall towards the hospital instead. Less to explain to his commander this way, anyway—he's just helping an injured citizen, as far as the hospital would know, right?

"Listen, man, I'm gonna need you to steel your mind, alright? You're already getting warmer, the cold's gonna get out of that limb, and you're really gonna feel it, and it's gonna hurt like a motherfucker once the adrenaline flushes out of your body." It's all words spoken from experience, both first hand and second hand. "I need you to stay calm, okay? I'm not gonna leave you unless you want or need me to, I'll stay with you the whole way, but I need you to remain calm or you're gonna make it harder for us to help you. Alright?"

[murdcrofcrows]

this was honestly the worst place for archie to get stuck. 'with the people' during a storm they're likely blaming the governance, afterglow, or both. and lucky archie works for all of the above. fun times. he knew well enough to keep his head down and stick close to allies, if not people that he at least knew wouldn't lead the charge to put his head on a spike.

maybe following delia hadn't been the best choice for that, as if that hasa ever stopped him before...

maybe that's why he entertained lino when he spoke up and didn't keep moving forward. she looked like she wanted to be left alone, anyways. "don't worry, she rarely has a hard time telling me to fuck off on her own." archie leaned against the table lino was at before falling into the seat across from him. "oooo, good one nepo baby. come up with that one on your own?" archie crossed his legs with a sigh, looking out at the wandering citizens of burnington. "you know in texas there's been reports of bullfrogs as big as humans? maybe we should move, sounds like true love is waiting for us both over yonder."

[insainted]

"And yet you don't take the hint, sounds right," Lino replies with a slight shake of the head. The jabs coming from Archie don't faze him in the slightest, simply because they're just that. It doesn't mean anything. Without an invite—taking Archie's continuation of conversation as such—Lino heads over and sits down next to him.

As much as he doesn't like the man, he's still the best company he can get, and not just in this particular situation. Others might see it as a sad thing, the fact that your closest —though that doesn't really say much when you don't actually have friends—is the guy you can't stand, who can't stand you. It annoys him, of course, that Archie is the guy he spends the most of his social time with, occasionally surpassed by Daphne when they hit a phase of obsession again before getting too busy—or maybe bored?—to maintain a relationship.

"Bullfrogs?" Lino repeats, brows knitting together in consternation. "Aren't those very aggressive? I've seen data on them that they're very f—"

Abruptly pausing, looking towards where Archie's lady had taken her exit, Lino makes the connection. "No, never mind, I think that's quite fitting for your taste in women. I guess I can imagine worse ways to die. Freezing to death in this derelict these people dubbed a community centre, for one."

[apocafics]

~~*~~

"Your child? Yea, I'd say that's a safe bet." She'd never even met the infamous Dot. Well, in fairness, she only found out she existed recently, but anyone that had Dante's blood running through their veins was probably going to be fine in the long run. And while Chuck had never personally birthed another human, she did have her children. The ones that had snuck right into her heart and, like the grinch, had made it grow three sizes. She'd do anything for them, including hold back from some of her more murderous tendencies. That level of devotion also came with the worry so she understood how he was feeling for the most part.

"Don't you have some other communication options? I mean, back in the day you had all sorts of sneaky ways of getting through. I seem to recall you using smoke signals at one point when we got cut off." Her tone remained serious but the smirk playing at the edges of her lips was obvious. "Are you losing your edge?"

[insainted]

There's a smile that finds its way onto his face without his explicit consent, one of pride—whether he has any right to it or not—at Chuck's vouching for Dot. Perhaps they've never met, and Dante swears that moment is coming, the moment he knows it's safe to do so, that there's no negative consequences to putting their relationship—he supposes—in the more public domain, but when that moment does come, he has no doubt that they would get along.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, as he looks at Chuck, suggests that she would make a fantastic mother for his Dot. A thought he'd never voice to the woman in front of him, of course, at least not right this second, or in the near future, because he has no illusions about the fact that she might try to skin him for it. Or so he guesses.

"Ha!" Dante lets out as a bark of laughter perhaps a bit louder than he should have, given that this... meeting... is supposed to stay under wraps, for both their sakes. "Funny, aren't ya?" An arm wraps around her waist, pulling her flush against him as he presses a slow kiss to her mouth. "You still know when to pick your battles, love, knowing I can't do shit to show you my edges."

He looks her face over for a long moment, cupping her cheek with a free hand, thumb brushing over her cheekbone slowly. "You should come 'round when this is all over. If my house hasn't been blown away half across the continent. I think we're both due a break, and I have ideas of how to spend 'em."

[murdcrofcrows]

"my sibling or my ex who has our son right now." queenie was worried beyond reason but she was also rational enough to know that there was no real reason to be worried. not yet anyways. things with her sibling could always change with the drop of a hat. they went how many years without seeing each other again? queenie didn't know what to expect when and if they ever got back to her, or she got out of the tin can in the middle of the mountain. if she ever got out of there, that is.

"they've only been with our son overnight once and while i know they are capable of taking care of him, i can't be sure they aren't going to forget to do it when they get hyper focused on work or whatever else they get up to in their spare time. of which, mind you, there is little." queenie knew full well davis was busy, she wouldn't fault them for that but she certainly didn't know ( and most of the time she didn't want to know ) what they did in their free time that wasn't spent with her or nik.

"and my sibling, well, briar could be anywhere doing anything right now and i just want to know if they left their apothecary or if she's buried in there." queenie groans, looking over to the poor ginger haired man that dared to converse with her. "sorry, probably more than you want to know, huh? are your people okay?"

[insainted]

King has half his attention on a phone whose service is not servicing—or perhaps Gabby has just decided that she has better shit to do than to message him back—and some of the words coming from the woman is lost over the howling of the blizzard causing their current situation in the first place. He gets the gist of it, however, and he can't help but scrunch his nose in annoyance. He can't say he's ever really had a high opinion of parents in general, the best they can do for you is leave you the fuck alone, but the situation Queenie is sketching before him strikes a particularly sensitive, annoyed chord within him.

"Sounds like a fucking ballbag," he tells her, loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough for him to be shouting. Sure, he knows what it's like to get so focused on work that you forget all else, but he also doesn't have any children to speak of. The only person who he'd inconvenience with it, as of recently, is Gabby, and if he doesn't respond in any timely manner, she'll know exactly where to find him anyway. It's not like she'll fucking die if he doesn't mind her for half a day.

Ultimately, it's the name she does drop that has King look up from his phone for a moment longer than before. He's heard it before. Hell, he's met the sprite of a being attached to the name, and as he looks Queenie over now, he can see the resemblance as obvious as the light of day. "Briar, that insane witch that lives in the woods somewhere? Always looks dirty somehow?" King snorts and shrugs. "Doesn't strike me as the helpless type, but can't say I've cared to get to know them all that much. I prefer 'em mentally stable."

Not true in the slightest, but King has simply tried to get a rise out of her before and decided it wasn't worth it by the time he found himself at the end of a knife and a bright smile; it's fun when they get pissed, it's less fun when they casually threaten your life like it's another Monday.

"I, uh," he starts at her question, shrugging as he tries to define what Gabby is to him and why he'd risk frostbite for her standing out here without making it too obvious. "I'm trying to reach... a friend. A girlfriend. A girl who's a friend."

[murdcrofcrows]

once they were off the hook for having to trek around in the blowing snow in the beginning of the storm, tallula was taking advantage of getting to stay under the covers with her best friend and other half. to the surprise of probably everyone from the outside looking in, they don't get to do this very often. just be lost in each other or even sleep in the same bed at night. sometimes tully feels like they shared a bed platonically way more than they have romantically, but then again, that could also mean they have yet to make up for lost time.

decades upon decades, despite their age.

she could feel them shifting behind her, their lips pressed against her skin that made gooseflesh pop up all around it. "mmm, morning." though instead of stretching and getting up to follow her normal routine, she turned to face them and nuzzled into their neck. a soft noise of contentedness escaped when their arm validated her settling in. "not enough to let you leave me yet." she answered, mumbling her answer into the suprisinly smooth skin of their neck. "can we just stay here?" that was an act of rebellion in itself, right? though it only served the two of them and not the greater good. "for a little while longer, at least?"

[insainted]

It's unusual for either of them to still be in bed at this time, or even make the argument to stay for longer, but especially Tully. That's not to say that Devan is the lazier of the two of them, it doesn't have much to do with laziness in that Tully is much more disciplined and adherent to her routine than they are. But then, he's not about to complain about this uncharacteristic turn of events that perfectly serves to benefit him, instead a slow grin spreading across his face as she all but crawls into his skin to get closer.

"Stay here?" he hums, finger tips trailing along the bare skin of her back, following the bumpy road of her spine from between her shoulders down to the top of her pelvic bone. It's been years upon years upon years where they'd imagined—fantasised, even—about Tallula Kennedy without the army fatigues, or even without the damn underwear, to feel her skin under their hands, to feel the way her body moved against theirs, and the fact that they're here, now, and have been catching up on years of repression in a matter of weeks has been akin to a whirlwind through their mind. "Who are you and what did you do to Tallula Kennedy?"

It's not a complaint, not even close. This is something he could never complain about.

With a single shift, he pulls her over him, pulling the covers up more to her shoulders to keep cold air away from bare skin. His hands disappear under the covers again to slide along her sides, over her hips, down to her thighs and up again to cup her butt with a squeeze. "They're gonna come knocking on the door eventually. Sasaki, most likely." They kiss her jaw once. "You reckon it's worth it?"

[folliesofmiceandmen]

"i dunno if i've got a dream proposal in the abstract." delphie's fingers grip only slightly at the hem of his shirt, a small shiver rolling down her spine as a result of the kisses pressed against that sensitive spot that she knows he knows about. the cold isn't even a thought in her mind as her brain warms up from the boost of serotonin, and she presses a kiss in return against the sharp line of his jaw that she can reach before she pulls back almost pointedly, like she's trying to remind herself what she's just said. too many people, too many chances for anyone to come waltzing in, and while delphie has absolutely no shame, she is also extremely jealous and protective of monty in general.

they'll get home eventually, and likely with enough pent up frustration that she'll be able to convince him to just stay home from work for a couple of days. she can, at the very least, try.

forcing her mind to refocus is another matter as hands slip under fabric to find skin, not quite warm to the touch, but not so frigid that she thinks she needs to worry. "i think you don't really like big, bombastic public things, and i don't need something like that, so i guess my dream proposal would just be a nice, quiet proposal as long as you were the one asking." her nose presses against the spot she'd just kissed, and she nuzzles there just a little. "i don't care about the frill of it, i care about the part where i get to keep you forever. but i do have a dress i desperately want. blush and cream, very fairytale princess, wisked away by the handsome rogue."

[insainted]

Monty can't help the small grin on his face, despite the turmoil in his mind that she's temporarily muted, at the almost accusatory shift in her demeanour as she pulls back. As well as Delphie can play him, Monty knows exactly how to play his girlfriend too, and it's something he uses far more often in the confines of their home than most people might guess from him—bar perhaps a few. His hand reaches up, cupping her jaw to let his thumb brush along her bottom lip, watching them as she explains her stance.

"I will have to keep a look out for a handsome rogue, but," he says, voice quiet, and for a long moment, he pauses. Is this the time? Is this the place? Is this the mindspace? It's not like he hadn't already thought about it. It's not like he didn't already have a ring. Nothing quite so expensive or fancy that it would break their bank, but something symbolic regardless. A ring that's quite a bit away from here, in the cupboard he often uses to decompress.

He lets out a slow breath through his nose. "Marry me. I can't get you your ring right now, but when we're home." He brushes some of her hair behind her ear, eyes briefly lifting to meet her eyes, making a burning attempt to hold it before they move down again. "If all you need from me is to ask... then.. will you marry me, Delphie?"

[ashryder]

Perhaps it made Ashton tense up slightly with his answer, no they have not met, yes I know who you are. It sounds like typical Afterglow shit and Ashton's gaze darkened ever so slightly at the response. Neither Finn nor Feary has told him anyone about any new faces, not that they had to, Ash was just an employee, like any other. Oftentimes he just does his job and take home the pay. Don't cause any trouble, not in there at least.

Ashton felt the tension let up just a bit as he continued to explain, though none of it ever really answered anything, brought more questions in fact. "..and why would you do that?" The fact that this man was with Hell's Gate, had to mean that he wasn't for Afterglow at least, that is a low bar to hit but a bar nonetheless that made Ash exhale out the stress in his shoulders. "I don't know what you've read in that or know about me, but I'm just trying to live my life, away from this place," he added before the other man could make anymore assumptions what he was doing here based on whatever was in his files. "So you know where the files are?" He hadn't been too interested in his own file, though keeping it away from Afterglow is always preferable.

[insainted]

Gray shrugs at the question but doesn't answer it immediately. Curiosity. Because it was there. Because it was behind a big, digital lock, and anything that's behind big locks is usually things others don't want to get out. Just like he himself had been behind a big lock. But now he is out—despite the fact that he's right back where he started—and Afterglow was right to put him behind that lock. Just like Gray knows they were right to put all those files behind a lock.

But they're out now too, aren't they? The difference is that this one, Afterglow doesn't know about, simply because he'd only copied it all, and didn't follow through in deleting everything he stole. Didn't have the time, but maybe he can still finish the job this time.

Your mother told you not to get in trouble, though.

Gray lets out a sharp, annoyed sigh at the reminder from his own mind, knowing that's a boundary he neither physically nor mentally can cross. But hey... maybe he can help this guy do it, right?

"They're still on their servers," Gray replies, shrugging, "and there's copies on a flashdrive. Somewhere else." His eyes look Ashton up and down for a long moment. "My mom said I'm not allowed to cause trouble here. But I can show you."