#> open

[gentle-refrain]

𝄡 A quiet day today, the archon dozed off in the sun. 

[unrecognizedtalentt]

“ knock it off, will you? ”

spooky ghost noises didn’t scare him. nope. not at all. he glares at the magazine he’s holding but his mind wanders back to what he hopes wasn’t his name being whispered from somewhere behind him. he gulps quietly and buries his head further into the glossy pages.

[unrecognizedtalentt]

“ excuse me, but i have somewhere to be in twenty minutes so if you could in any way hurry this up. ”

impatient hands rest on his hips as his foot taps. some people really don’t grasp the concept of express do they?

[systematrical]

“A breeder... What is that? How do you even spell it?”

[wiildwcrld-blog]

     The roar from the engine of your four-wheeler, coupled with the whistling of the wind, is the only sound you hear as you tear across the winding desert. The tail of your trench coat flaps in the wind behind you, and your hair is tucked safely in your old CVR helmet that adorns your head.

     You were heading into the city beyond, heading in there to gather intel, and maybe touch base with the other agents there. It also couldn’t hurt to say hello to some friendly faces - what few you knew, anyway.

     So as the sand flies back from your tires, you speed on towards the looming shadow of the metropolis beyond, focused only on your target.

[fleche-blog1]

OPEN

She’d been unconscious for a week, at least, that’s what the doctor told her. When she’d come to that morning, the first thing she noticed was the sickening of hospital. Then she opened her eyes and was greeted with smiling lips, but their eyes said something different. Just another disgusting addict. She’d been informed that she’d had alcohol poisoning paired with an overdose.  The last thing she remembered was the house party she had thrown, she knew barely anyone there, and none of her close friends were there. Or the ones she considered close.

She’d stumbled up to her room, and inside there was a group of people. She should’ve found the nearest gun and told them to get the fuck out, cursed them for bringing that wretched substance back into her house. She hadn’t touched the stuff since she was fifteen, since she watched her mother murder everyone she would ever love ever again - the pretty german boy while he lingered above her. She nearly died when she was using then, too. But she knew better now, so she couldn’t comprehend why she had walked in and sat on the bed, let some blonde boy with Yakuza tattooed on his arm talk her into shooting up. But she’d already drank enough alcohol to supply a liquor store. She guessed that clouded her judgement.

When they’d left her alone, she just laid there, her eyes shut. She had been told that they’d only just contacted her uncle because they’d been trying to contact her mother, but couldn’t. He should be there by the end of the day. The idea of her mother finding her here, vulnerable in this state, unable to protect herself, was terrifying. She’d be dead. The thought of parents drew her back to her father. Had her uncle told him? She could only imagine the look on his face when the words overdose slipped from his lips. She’d only been around Derek a couple times, but she was intimately familiar with his expressions already. Many of them were the same as her own. Because of that she could see the way his face would drop, and his eyes would go a little greener as he fought back the tears. She could walk herself through the stages of confusion, anger, panic, overwhelming sadness. She felt guilty for that.

And her uncle.. How he must have felt when he got that call. ‘Your niece is in a coma. We don’t know if she’ll wake up.’ How the faces of every woman in his life had to pass through his mind. His wife, taken by the code. His daughter, taken by her loyalty to her friends. His sister, taken by her greed. His niece, taken by an addiction. She would’ve cried if every part of her brain didn’t feel so numb.

The sound of their voice drew her back to reality. Her eyes opened slightly, burning from the bright lights overhead. They searched the room in a haze until she found the source, and when she saw the other, her heart broke. Of course it had to be the last person she wanted to see her like this. They had probably been the one to find her, too. Shit.

She turned her eyes to the window on the other side of the room. She couldn’t look at them any longer. The redness around their eyes hinted that they had been crying.. Probably thinking that she’d be dead by morning. “You shouldn’t have brought me here.” Her voice was weak, barely above a whisper. Suddenly she was aware of every inch of pain vibrating through her body, the dryness in her mouth. She knew she’d be dead right now if she hadn’t been found, so she really was grateful. It was the guilt that whispered the words, not Amabella. She was barely present inside the shell of a body she owned.