#* thread — dev.

[insainted]

located : afterglow barracks ・ @murdcrofcrows ( tully )

Avoiding each other when you're in the same unit is pretty much impossible.

Devan had considered staying in Burnington. Hell, he'd even sat down with Santiago Muñoz—properly this time—to explain the situation. Maybe not so much the way shit crumbled with their best friend, but moreso that there's a reason they haven't left the army yet, and that reason remains true, even now. So no, they haven't been avoiding each other, it'd be impossible. But Devan has been nothing more than curt with her while they process their emotions late at night in their room, pacing between push-ups and pull-ups and anything to centre their brain.

He'd fully intended to let go. But every time he came even remotely close to letting go of any emotional ties to Tully, his mind would explode into anger and hurt and not understanding how she could be so callous.

That's not like her.

But that's the thing, isn't it? It's not like her. And two weeks have passed, the nightly pacing before bed as gotten shorter and shorter in time, less frantic every night. Devan had been writing his thoughts out the other night, but he kept finding blocks in his understanding for which only she could give him answers. And as much as he didn't want to talk to her anymore—even though that's a bald-faced lie—to find any sort of closure, there needed to be another confrontation.

It's late on a Friday night, and while Tully could very well be in Burnington now, after 31 years of knowing her, they know she wouldn't be. He has no idea what he's going to say as he knocks, whatever comes will come, whatever happens will happen; all the things Tully often accuses him of.

The door opens and before there's even acknowledgement, he's pushed into the room, pacing again.

"You're such a fuckin' cunt, you know that, Tallula?" he grunts, looking at the ground before stopping mid-step to look at her. "Why the fuck do you think it's so goddamn smart to play games with me? I don't want to fucking play games with you anymore! You wanna act like I'm the bad guy, fine. But at least man the fuck up."

As they talk, it just becomes clearer and clearer to them that if it hadn't been a game, or even remotely the truth, then it'd been a test. Devan looks at her, shaking his head slowly before letting out a huff of non-amusement through his nose. "I can't fucking believe you, Kennedy. Can't fucking believe you."

[insainted]

where : central market ・ who : @ashryder

God, his timing is fucking horrendous. More and more lately, Devan has found themself with the almost overwhelming need to get the fuck away from the compound—tonight, they had been unable to stay asleep, and instead of staying in bed for any longer, they'd decided to get dressed and go. Most of the morning, there'd been a bad feeling in his stomach that he hadn't been able to shake no matter how hard he tried, and by the time the buzzing of both cicadas and hornets alike filled the place, Devan realises that maybe it had been a gut feeling.

Tully is going to defenestrate him for this one.

Almost as soon as the swarm has descended, Devan's military training kicks in. Kids to safety first, ignoring panicked limbs battering him, making sure to get the smallest of the population inside, somewhere safe.

Just as many people are felled by the cicadas as they're being trampled underfoot, and with a grunt, Devan pulls one of them upright, only to come face to face with a bruised but very familiar face. There's a long pause before their head automatically ducks to avoid a low flying hornet.

"Ryder. You good? I need your help."

[insainted]

where : burnington ・ who : @murdcrofcrows ( santiago )

They'd been there a day yet, and while not being at the compound and actually helping people feels liberating, there's something in the back of Devan's mind gnawing, taunting, knowing that there's hell to pay once they do return. He and Tully have been staying at the motel since they got there—just thinking about her sends his stomach into cartwheels he can't fucking deal with right now, goddammit—and trying to help the people of Burnington get help, get to safety, try to break up this massive dogfight between these two giant bugs with anything and everything they could.

Of course they don't have enough firepower. "This shit's not gonna solve itself, is it?" they ask the older man with a grunt as they help upright a stall to look under it for anyone still missing—or otherwise. "We're gonna need bigger guns." What they really needed, honestly, was that antidote that Afterglow had promised seventeen years ago.