MOVED!

❝ what do you think that is? should we leave it or... ? ❞

mound slick and ever forming, moves once again. sloshes more like, at the far end of the tunnel. these tunnels, the ones that travel underneath the entire city, are dark and slick, aching to eat them alive, to convulse just enough for the walls to trap them in its center. this isn't the first time they've been down here, there is no stone an investigator will not overturn, but it is the first time with another that sticks to their side much like the mud does the bottom of their boot. the tip of their flashlight careens around this corner, peeks first at the abominable thing before their eyes follow. a cringe sneaks onto their features, the disgust (and confusion) clearly written. ❛ fuck if i know. let's just ... avoid it. if you want to know so bad, you go first then. ❜ their next steps are as careful and methodical as the last, fugitive of the elements. ❛ i hate this city . . . ❜ words are grumbled, low pitched and muffled under their breath. god forbid they have a normal night.

Does it make you happy?

it's quiet at this bar. gotta be why he likes it so much. the drinks are served, pours never too heavy (but never too light), and the patrons mind their business. it's the perfect place to escape when the turks' usual bar is too full. rude might not mind the conversation, but he does. ( and that other bar is sacred, a place they go together; he couldn't bear going in alone. ) in here, no one asks questions— until he's closed off the tab and starts the walk to the nearest alleyway to sober up, it seems.

it's a good cover. a great one, even. because they've done this before. hung out somewhere they didn't belong, sniffing out trouble ( or trouble sniffing out them ) and then boom! a break in a case. the ever happy detective, digging until their fingers are bleeding for the lines that connected all the blurry dots. a massacre of their mind, and people knew it. their reputation stood iron, a skyscraping artifact of the last decade ━━ leitha will do what it takes, whatever it takes, for justice. for the truth. for finding the secrets of the city, those beholden to them.

they are just another face of the night. they question people, not the other way around, a rule hardly broken. a flurry of red hair and the huff of someone whose drank to much enters their scene, just the person they're looking for. ❛ what gave it away. ❜ the low drawl echoes in the dead alley, the dead night, as they lean forward to pass the wedge previously stuck between their lips forward. to share it. ❛ lemme guess. delinquent type? ❜

eating has little to do with hunger. eating, consuming, consumption. the hunger inside ( a deep seated hunger that waits, waits patiently, attention desiring ) has little to do with the act of eating. the hunger can demand many things: soul devouring, god collecting, sex loving, wine indulging, power evident and commanding. and it is not just food that fills a chewing mouth and tense jaw, for eating can be done out of spite, out of boredom. it very rarely means eating for sustenance the elf has noticed, for the times they feel hunger are times such as these. the demand for control, the cracking of bones within their palm and under clenching fingers, a perpetual hope for more and more and more. a cavern that is neverending, an endless swirling cave that digs deeper and deeper. a forever search for the hunger that crawls into a limb, finds a spot warm, curls into something small, and hides.

it's the directive that gives her pause. up until recently, she's never been the person that people looked to for guidance. she's always been content to play the chess piece to be moved, the person who stood waiting for what she should do. to be the one who people saw as the expert, the guide -- it unnerves her a little. i trust your judgment. would they say the same, oriana wonders, if they knew of the blood on their hands? the deaths they couldn't prevent. silence stretches if only for a heartbeat, weighing the options and the woman they're guarding with their lives.

it is easy to play the soldier. this comes from a practiced place. a sacred place. a place where they can venture into and it is familiar, well worn. of a time they do not care for, a time that cannot touch them, someplace far away and elsewhere. because being a soldier means not thinking ━━ do not think, it'll be safer if you take orders, enact them, move on. do not stop to ponder your actions, just act, worry about the consequences never because they don't matter. you're not the one giving out the orders, you are free from the guilt. the remorse of the battlefield, of the blood spilt into the shifting dirt, that is commonplace. it is easy to find others that share those screaming nights, the nights where you remember a little too much of how blood sprays, of how bones sound when they snap, the cries of your brothers in arms. a soldier. you can be a soldier, that's easy.

a leader? the burden of shame is lain on your shoulders. thus they shift their weight, uncomfortable and known. their cloak is shifted around the woman's shoulders, veiling her features, the red hair, and bringing her into their wingspan. their height enables them an advantage, and they provide a nod to their companion. ❛ i will follow your lead. ❜ a silent prayer to her Lunar Lady, wishing for their travels to be masked with her turned face. ❛ or four. for making it to vallaki in the dead of night? we deserve, in fact, we owe it to ourselves to get absolutely blasted. i cannot wait to sleep in an actual bed. ❜

a mix of arguments, tension, manipulation, gossiping, fighting, & general emotional messiness!

you  weren't  supposed  to  hear  that.

don't  look  at  me  like  i'm  the  only  one  lying.

want  to  tell  them,  or  should  i?

you  think  i  don't  know  what  you  did?

i've  hit  people  for  less.

oh,  i  thought  you  already  knew.

that's  funny,  you  didn't  say  that  last  night.

say  that  again.  i  dare  you.

you  wanna  talk  about  loyalty?

no  offense,  but  if  you're  the  last  to  know,  that's  on  you.

go  ahead  -  pretend  like  it  wasn't  your  idea!

they  deserve  to  know  the  truth.

you  didn't  hear  this  from  me,  but  -

oh,  so  now  you  care?

don't  flatter  yourself.  you  were  just  convenient.

you  crossed  a  line.

we  had  bets  on  how  long  it  would  last.

it's  not  even  a  secret  anymore.

you  don't  get  to  cry  about  it  now.

touch  me  again  and  see  what  happens.

say  it  again.  louder  this  time.

you  really  thought  nobody  would  find  out?

don't  act  so  innocent.

okay,  but  am  i  the  villain  for  laughing?

tell  me  who  else  knows.  right  now.

this  whole  time,  and  you  didn't  say  a  word?

don't  act  brave  now.

you're  really  gonna  do  this  here?

it  wasn't  supposed  to  get  this  far!

you  can't  rewrite  history.

oh,  i'd  never  say  it  to  their  faces.

it  was  supposed  to  stay  between  us.

we're  all  thinking  it,  i  just  said  it.

you're  not  as  untouchable  as  you  act.

do  you  even  feel  guilty?

they  warned  me  about  you.

go  ahead,  make  it  worse.

if  you  repeat  this,  i'll  deny  everything.

the  next  thing  out  of  your  mouth  better  be  an  apology.

you're  about  three  seconds  away  from  regretting  this.

you  keep  pushing,  and  i'll  push  you  back.

they're  going  to  find  out.

one  more  lie,  and  i  walk.

they're  lying  to  you.

you  need  to  back  off.  now.

you're  defending  them?  after  everything?

don't  try  to  hide  it.

tell  me,  was  i  just  a  placeholder?

you  really  think  sorry  fixes  this?

there's  nothing  left  to  say.

don't  act  like  you're  the  one  hurting.

i  don't  owe  you  any  explanation.

whatever  helps  you  sleep  at  night.

you  should've  seen  this  coming.

i  hope  it  was  worth  it.

i  told  the  truth.  just  not  all  of  it.

you'll  miss  me  before  i  miss  you.

smile.  you're  ruining  the  mood.

i'd  watch  that  tone  if  i  were  you.

it's  not  my  fault  you  believed  me.

you  have  such  a  talent  for  pretending  you're  innocent.

we  both  know  this  is  over.

i  never  said  i  was  a  good  person.