@bleedingheros.
A MONTH. It’s been one month since Miranda died, & one month of Karl leaving the village & beginning the work untangling his complicated emotions surrounding the whole situation. For the most part, he has settled down. A large fortune left behind by his previous family ensures he doesn’t have to worry about food or shelter, but he still opts to live a simple life. A small house, scarcely decorated, close enough to the woods that he has very few neighbours, but still near enough to civilisation that he can gradually get used to being around normal people.
He owns a pick-up truck. It’s old and rundown, but Karl had taken great pleasure in fixing it up himself - investing himself in a project to distract from the trauma of his whole fucking life. There’s a dozen blankets in the back, a make-shift bed for Tilly so she can travel with him. The pair of them pull up in the truck now, coming to a halt outside of Ethan’s new home. Karl has his hair tied back, sunglasses perched atop his head, and his look as been considerably updated.
He knocks. Waits. Smiles when Ethan answers. “Ethan Winters, in the flesh! You’re looking a lot less dead.”
