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sixtwelve:

the EVER-SHIFTING CROWD pushes against you, much to your chagrin. you make sure to keep your makeshift team, consisting of GERWYN and CHARA, close by despite the unsettled masses beside you. the android — OFIUCO — remains uncaring for the chaos, and you wish you had the stoic, or maybe even the ASSURANCE to keep up such a facade.

her words echo in your mind. 

OFIUCO: if you don’t wish for your current self to cease existence, it’s something you must do.

you continue chewing your lip until you manage to get close enough to ofiuco to actually SEE HER FACE. it doesn’t move.

TAVROS: hI OFIUCO,  TAVROS: wE’RE TEAM, TAVROS: ,,, uHHHH,

TAVROS: gUYS, wHAT’S OUR TEAM NAME,?

— @blodaue > @lvslck   |   a god, an alien, and a child walk into a bar…

he despises crowds. gerwyn’s arms wrap around themselves; folded with fingers digging tightly into the petal-flesh of his skin, golden blood already beginning to tease at the surface slightly under the pressure. teamwork? ugh. really? he chooses to keep a little away from the android, the rather emotionless type of technology there something he never wishes to address. instead, however, his chin lifts at tavros’ voice. at least that can provide some element of comfort, regardless of how small.

“ team name… “ he can think of a thousand words he’d like to name this team, but decides to keep quiet about the majority. “ … team… team gerwyn. “ 

excellent choice. surely there’s nothing wrong with this name whatsoever. 

—- @lvslck​ > @sixtwelve​ |  life’s cruellest joke. 

the child curls in on themselves, arms wrapped around their middle; a pitiful attempt to make themselves as small as possible in this ever-shifting crowd made of humans and monsters alike. the sheer amount of humans makes them nervous, and they find themselves inching closer to tavros in turn, as if the alien would provide some sort of security.

the android’s words make them curious — what would happen if they did not comply? what if nobody complied? would this world, too, cease to exist? they wish to test it, to see what would truly happen, but —

red eyes glance up at the talk of team names. the smallest of smiles graces their lips.

“ team... “ they are their father’s child, never one to come up with the most creative of names “ death gun! “