cue the violins .

“ NO LIVE ORGANISM CAN CONTINUE FOR LONG TO EXIST SANELY UNDER CONDITIONS OF ABSOLUTE REALITY. ” is that BAHAR SAHIN? oh no, that’s DIDEM “DIDI” GÜVEN, born on the 27TH of DECEMBER, 2022. i heard SHE/HER (CIS WOMAN) is a SOLDIER of THE WYOMING MILITIA. apparently, they can be SWEET-NATURED and OPTIMISTIC but also known to be DELUSIONAL and LOOPY. spends most of their free time BATTLING HER OWN MIND AND NEEDING A NAP, probably smells like SAND AND COTTON. is that a bite mark i see? no, must have been a trick of the light.

CHARACTER INSPO: annie cresta from hunger games. that's it, that's the vibe.

Call it chance of fate, call it early stages of an obsession, call it whatever -- Leyla simply kept finding herself in Audrey's bedroom every so often, these days. Truth be told, she'd never wanted something like this in her life before. She'd fooled around with people before, and it had always been... underwhelming. Boring, even, she'd dare say. But there was something about the way they fit together, something different in the connection their bodies had. People talked about sparks flying, they were an entire explosion in itself.

Things had finally quieted down a bit. The group had managed to win over the radio tower, everyone was raving about it. Leyla didn't mind celebrating with the others for a while, letting herself be entertained -- she particularly didn't mind the cheap alcohol being passed around, hidden behind backs and under dumb giggles. She could have fun when she wanted to, contrary to popular belief. But now that that was all done, she could inconspicuously trail after Audrey and sneak into her room for some alone time.

"You're the talk of the town, today, huh?" She greeted, a hint of a smirk on her tone. "I just wanted to give my personal congratulations."

“ it sounded like one in my head. i feel like my arguments are usually better than that. “ it wasn’t the first of those jokes nor the last but anja understands the concern — she understands that those jokes scare her as well when they fall from his lips. the blonde white knuckles the edge of the counter, fearing that sting more than she was prepared for not that she hadn’t had worse in her years. “ you know i didn’t mean it like that. i’m okay… we’re okay. “

nodding, she still worries — still wonders if he is being completely transparent with her. after all the time they’d spent together she still wouldn’t put it past him like she would not herself either. sometimes little white lies were what they needed to get each other through the day but bites, scratches, infection. it was always living in the back of her mind. being raised among a decaying quarantine zone had not fared well for her optimism nor had knowing he was the one person she had left to lose. her grip tightens and anja grits her teeth, hissing as the liquid made contact with the wound. “ that never gets easier but… it wasn’t an arrow. that would’ve put a real damper on the morning. “

bash knows it isn't fair to be disapproving of the joke, when he's often the one saying worse things. it's just his usual visceral reaction to it, he can't think of a world without her. "i know, i know," he nodded, sending her an apologetic look. "yeah. we're okay."

“ THE ICHOR THAT RESIDES IN ME DEMANS ITS OWN THRONE. ” is that MELISA PAMUK? oh no, that’s LEYLA KARAHAN, born on the 29th of MARCH, 2015. i heard SHE/HER (CIS WOMAN) is a PRINCEDOM of THE PURGED. apparently, they can be RESPONSIBLE and DEDICATED but also known to be CALLOUS and POSSESSIVE. spends most of their free time AVOIDING GETTING HER HANDS DIRTY, probably smells like ROSES AND JASMINE. is that a bite mark i see? no, must have been a trick of the light.

it was dangerous and stupid but what choice did she have? the situation the two of them had been throne in had been confusing enough let alone knowing what to do with the over abundance of unknown information. a baby — the timing couldn’t have been worse but anja was certain by now, she knew that it was the situation they’d been handed and she couldn’t even be upset about it. she only wished they weren’t here, almost anywhere else would’ve been better. 

she watches him stitch her up with precision, gritting her teeth with each movement of the thread. this wasn’t how she saw her day going but here they were. “ i can’t argue with you there, “ anja whispers, waiting for the moment she’s cleared to drag her jacket back up and over. there’s still no evidence of the baby, nothing more than an unnoticeable bump to most but she often feels like people know — like they can see through her. “ it could’ve been worse. it’s not too bad. i expected it to be worse… i’m not dead at least. “ she never saw the point in all the fighting, worried for him and the baby more than herself. “ you’re okay, yeah? it’s only fair i worry about you too. “

"saying it could be worse is not a valid argument," bash protests, though there's a tint of humour behind his tone. he steps away from her, only so he can pick up a clean cloth and some of the liquid mixture they use to clean up wounds, whatever it is. he just knows it stings like a bitch, but it keeps anyone from getting infections. "don't even joke about that. being dead, i mean," he says around a sigh, his voice a bit more tired there. he's not one to complain about risky jokes and dry humour, and they've had their fair share of death jokes along the years, but the stakes feel higher now. things feel different, ever since they found out about the baby.

“ mm. to a dumb fuck who think’s metaphors are more important. but neither of us fall under that category. i hope.”  they tease, a smile beginning to grow that holds fondness yen has only ever directed at a few. it’s not something they’ve given a great deal of thought, their relationship with nell. the woman in front of them caught their eye in many ways, the way her voice fills yen’s veins with ease and, if it was possible, more confidence. not to mention the fire nell’s eyes that pairs so nicely with their own anger. nell is a comfort, but she is also an enabler. not that they will ever care or acknowledge the latter.

a laugh, lightly dusted with genuine amusement. “ i don’t think you should ever be scared of me, nell.”  is it a veiled way of expressing admiration? adoration? maybe. but yen isn’t consciously aware of it. another laugh sounds from a throat used to hand out death sentences, an odd sound to those who don’t know them well enough. “ you say that like you wouldn’t be the first to know.” now that she’s within reach, yen’s war torn and aching fingers reach up to tuck dark brown strands behind nell’s ear. yen takes the bottle back, breaking eye contact to swallow another purifying mouthful ( more purifying than the brand on their shoulder ever was ). “ is it? in my whole six years of living in the old world, i didn’t get to experience a shred of it.”  bitterness taints the smile on their lips, but they wash it away with another sip. “ how old we’re you? when it happened.”

x

nell rolls her eyes at the teasing, a dramatic show of feigning distaste despite the way her body steps closer. it's always like this, when yen is around. like a magnet. she doesn't want to get sappy -- and this isn't --, but every time they're in the room, she just finds herself gravitating close. she's hardly one for pda, god forbid, and she doubts yen would be either, but there is something to be said about the way her hands seem to be yearning to touch every time they're this close.

luckily for her, the fun is in holding back, too. it's the anticipation that keeps her buzzing, makes every touch feel electric. "i think a little fear is a fun addition to the mix," she argues just for the sake of antagonising, a wolfish grin splitting her lips wide. they touch a strand of her hair and tuck it back, and nell tilts her face up towards the hand minutely like a touch-starved puppy, wanting it to linger. it doesn't, but that's the game they play. "i mean, me neither, but i've seen it in pictures and everything. i think i'd make a good cheer girl," she watches yen take another sip, her eyes admiring their throat as they swallow, before she wiggles her fingers towards the bottle, wanting another drink for herself. "i was... two or three," she responds, her voice softer but no bitterness in her tone. she barely remembers anything at all from that time, there's nothing to be missed. "do you remember much of it? from before?"

CLOSED FOR : @mccncrane​ .

when they had abandoned the purged anja had hoped they’d end up somewhere better — somewhere where she did not need to fear about the upcoming days let alone next few months but they’d both been mistaken again. and their options had been quite limited, she wasn’t about to ruin anything and protest so the attack had to go smoothly, she had to prey to any god that might listen for some sense of safety. if it worked, no one could tell but she had managed to walk away mostly unscathed only a knife slash to her left arm proving to be an issue. 

anja grits her teeth while he stitches her up without anesthetic. it was not the first time they’d done this, in the world they ventured out into would not be the last either. “ you worry too much, “ the blonde speaks in a hushed tone, reaching out with her free hand to brush some hair back from his face. “ it could’ve gone much worse, right? “ 

bash is angry. angry at the grizzlies, at this whole fight, at life for getting them in this situation. he knows anja should've stayed back, stayed protected in camp. by all means, he's not about to say what a pregnant lady can or cannot do, but a literal battlefield is not exactly the ideal place for one. and it's early, and he barely understands what all of this means, but he worries about her. always her. she's the priority.

Oh, the second he felt it, he knew he was in trouble. The fight against the grizzlies had been rough, as it usually was; the fuckers were armed to their teeth, and always revving up the engines to those stupid cars of theirs. Pathetic, if you asked him, but he didn't get a chance to taunt anyone before they were all in the middle of a warzone. At least they knew beforehand. That didn't keep him from getting hurt, though.

It happened so quickly, he'd almost missed it. A sound, a slash, something that grazed his side, just above his hip. Something turned out to be a bullet, but, minor details. Only after a moment, Mercy felt the burning spreading up his entire left side, and he didn't need to look down to know the blood was starting to stain his clothes. He distantly remembered someone telling him to sit down and get it checked. He remembered brushing them off with a growl and standing his ground, firing at those pesky little idiots until they were forced to retreat.

He didn't have the energy to celebrate their small victory, by that point. He knew the injury wasn't serious -- because otherwise he wouldn't even be walking. And he knew it probably didn't bleed too much -- because otherwise he would've passed out. So it should be fine. That was the train of thought he tried to convey as he dragged poor Aylin into their room and closed the door behind them, while the other Hunters were just starting to trickle back into the building.

stargazing is just something she got so used to doing, it was practically an addiction now. whenever she spends too many nights without going up to the rooftop and watching the night, she starts to feel suffocated, trapped. she needs the pitch black skies, the twinkling stars, the comfort of nothing but the cool breeze swooshing past her ears for hours on end. she's lost count by now of how many times she fell asleep up there.

tonight, however, her plans are interrupted. when she climbs onto the roof, late enough that she has tiptoed her way up the building, she sees a figure sitting there. the word that pops into her head as she freezes on her spot is lonely. she wonders if people think that about her, too, when she's up here. they'd be right.

she approaches with careful steps, hoping they can both sit here for a while. "nikolai, good evening," she greets, all proper. she always liked nik, even if she was perpetually scared of any of the leaders. he always treated her fairly. "is it-- do you mind if i sit out here, too? i didn't think there'd be anyone else awake so late. is-- you-- everything okay?"

𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣     𝙛𝙤𝙧     𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙨𝙤     ,          𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙝                    @mccncrane​

                    soft     chuckles     painting     the     picture     of     somebody     not     tinted     in     malice          /          knows     she’s     something     vicious     but     in     her     wake     she     is     reborn     and     reborn     again          ,          tribulations     be     damned          .          heart     heavy     and     light     at     the     same     time          :          is     this     laughter     deserving          ?          to     whom     does     this     benevolence     belong          ?          digits     tug     at     the     cotton     around     her     shoulders     tighter          ,          lips     faltering          .          colloquial     is     teasing     when     the     other     approaches          .          ❝          another     one     of     these     cookies          ?          oh          ,          you     know     i     hate     them          .          ❞          lie     falls     easily     off     an     adapted     tongue          —-          won’t     admit     that     the     sweets     she     brings     her     make     veins     warm     with     something     she     doesn’t     recognize     or     that     she     counts     the     days     before     she’s     eating     them     again     but     isn’t     that     how     it’s     always     been          ?          the     lying     and     the     sin     come     too     easily     and     she     is     made     to     devour     it     all          .          ❝          so     what’s     going     on     out     there          ?          any     fights     worth     mentioning          ?          ❞

x

sneakily, she always saves a handful of cookies for them to eat together later. leftovers, she'll call them, as if they weren't carefully wrapped in a clean cloth, still warm, and tucked onto a corner of the kitchen, saved. she doesn't know why. a combination of enjoying roma's company and wanting to remedy the second-hand guilt of having her as a prisoner of the faction. funnily enough, her voice carries no guilt when she tells the last couple people in the line sorry, we're out of cookies for today. 

i hate them, roma says just as lily is unwrapping the treats, and her face falls. she believes it, on a split moment of uncertainty. self-doubt has always been her forte. she's already thinking of all the ways she can fix this when she looks up, and catches sight of the teasing glint on the other's eyes. her own lips split into a grin as she scoffs, laughing mostly at herself. "oh, shut up. i know you like them."

It was Reuben’s fault. Of course, it was. Sure, blame the faction’s leader for issues that were only your own. If Lily had said that out loud, that probably would’ve irritated him a lot. And he was already grumpy over being hungry, even if he did wait until the last minute to come. Yes, he was the kind of dude to get hangry. The cook finally snapped out of whatever zoned out universe she was in, and he half expected her to let out a scream. She jumped in surprise and he glanced down at the knife when the blade hit the roughed up cutting board. That distracted look had been plastered on her face for who knew how long.

A quiet grumble came again. “Shouldn’t be distracted when doing your job,” Reuben retorted right back, raising a hand and scratching his beard. If she had been one of the recruits out in the field, she’d be dead. Done-zo. Even a cook needed to stay focus. Besides, a fire in the kitchen could end up being just as dangerous as a few runners scrambling around. “Whatever, it’s — just don’t zone out when you’re playing with fire,” he pointed out, and he most definitely was meaning it literally and not just figuratively. “Uh,” he glanced down and behind her. “What’s served today?” He finally just asked, changing the subject.

Reuben's comment is dry and cold -- nothing out of the ordinary, coming from him. Yes, she knew she shouldn't be distracted, she didn't choose to be distracted, it just happened. It wasn't like she had been reading a book or watching something happen! She couldn't control if she zoned out or not, she just had a lot on her mind lately. She pushed a stray hair away from her forehead before picking up the knife she'd dropped onto the cutting board, adjusting it to the side properly.