#c:pax6

[mouse--quinley]

[Mouse stops, frozen by a sudden thought. He’s quiet for a long moment, motionless and contemplative.]

What if it’s not just humans got Infected? Anyone thought ‘bout that?

[mouse--quinley]

i’m bond & you’re m || quinyuk || phase iii: the branding

[Fires are so underrated---a lesson many of them learned the hard way after D-Day, he figures. So it makes this whole celebration extra fitting, that they've chosen a bonfire over something like a movie, or something else too reminiscent of the old days, didn’t it? This is more them, more suited to their world as it was rather than as it had been before. They all know how brilliant it is now, to be warm in the cold---it won’t dredge up memories, necessarily, just b ring the fun. Mouse ruffles the last damp ends of his hair, smelling like salt water and poor decisions. It was getting too long, again, but that seemed like a never-ending battle, honestly.]

[And the clock’s run out. Showing double-0-seven seconds, and now they’re stuck at pause---that was that James Bond thing, wasn’t it, seven seconds? Whatever. Point was, shit could explode if they weren’t careful, because it was time to start the night for real.]

[Mouse inhales, exhales. Looks around, pulls himself to his feet. Everyone’s still doing their own things, whether that means dancing lopsidedly, or hanging out in bunches and gabbing. The Boys know their own job--- watching the area where he and Corbin will be, from afar, and making sure not too many people go over at once. Waylaying people who need waylaying. This being in the fictional, optimistic world, where they’re swarmed by enthusiastic rebellious types eager to stick it to the NWRF, of course.]

[He keeps his hopes in a more realistic realm. Honestly, if one other person shows to get their tattoo covered, that’s one more than he expects. Mouse begins to make his way for the shadowed edge of the beach. There’s an outcropping of rocks where he’ll meet Corbin soon, if he’s not there already. Gradually, as the music fades behind him, the wind seems to grow colder. He’s in nothing but shirtsleeves, now, and regretting that a little, though it all made sense at the time and he hopes Elsa’s still cozy, wherever she’s at now.]