001. STRANGER [@warcraftcr]
the body is a sixty-seven chevelle. the engine that rey is piecing together inside of that husk is completely different, made up of disjointed chevrolet parts that she’s pretty sure will work together. really --- it doesn’t have to get her far, just be good enough to sell to get the heck out of here or run well enough that she can make it past the county line and kiss the ground on the other side.
she is tired of unkar plutt. as tired on the bruise on her shoulder and the the little mark below her lower lip. tired as the way her ribs show and her dreams are the only reprieve even if she can’t quite sleep these days. so rey’s gonna get away. long limbs and long sleeves and hopes that have her following lay lines, she pulls herself from beneath the chassis and sits on the hood of her rusted out dream car. rey grabs for a water bottle, taking a long drink and clearing her throat.
❝ C’naye help you? ❞ she asks, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.