a murder of crows

❝ what were you doing on the compound? ❞ stacey doesn't mean for the question to sound accusatory, but it's been lingering on his mind since the moment he found out that his best friend was snowed in there. a few weeks ago, stacey might have argued that the compound was the safest place for anybody to be during a natural catastrophe of this caliber, even poe. a few weeks ago, he would've been wrong. and once stacey realized that, it was real easy to start imagining all the horrible things that could happen if poe were detained there too long.

❝ i mean, it doesn't really matter at the end of the day. you're not there anymore. that's what's importa―you saw the deathknell bear? ❞ it's immediately clear how quickly the alstead's attention is diverted. blue eyes widen almost comically and he has to stop himself from taking a step forward to―what? shake him for being so reckless? hug him again because that's not the kind of thing that anybody walks away from alive? no, he's already given in to one impulsive display of affection. stacey doesn't need to make it two in just as many minutes. ❝ i'm not saying a word. it was you, though, wasn't it? ❞ stacey doesn't have to say what. he knows poe knows. ❝ i know they're looking. they're not just looking to hand out congratulations, are they? ❞

stacey notices when poe glances around. ❝ come on, i don't know when they'll be back. we can hang in my room. i'd say we could just leave, but some of us aren't built for the snow. ❞ at least not this bad. ❝ they're fine, by the way. go figure the only one that got hurt in all of this was sullie, twisted her ankle something awful coming with sue to the community center from that bunker. she's alright, though, sul's a tough cookie. your dad okay? ❞ he waits until he's pulled his bedroom door shut to ask what he really wants to. ❝ what happened? ❞

"not having fun, if that's what you're wondering." poe let out a bitter laugh, not wanting to get into all of it right now. mostly because he had no clue how many alsteads were lingering inside the ranch house trying to listen into their conversation. that and it was just an experience he didn't care to relive at the moment. the truth of the matter was he ultimately failed to find anything out about his mother and in the end he wound up in a small room, afraid, being questioned and had to call on bill to come save him.

it was embarrassing.

what his best friend said aloud, probably a lot more eloquently than he would've, it didn't matter anymore. he got out unscathed and with minor trauma that could easily be shoved down with the rest of shit he's already gone through. poe was quickly distracted by the string of questions and implications falling out of his best friends mouth once they were inside the house. "uh, yeah i saw it." there wasn't much time to elaborate before stacey was asking more questions and then ushering him off to another room, stacey's room to be exact.

"oh, okay. i guess that's good that they're all doing okay." poe moved into stacey's room and sat on the edge of his bed for lack of anywhere else. plus it was more comfortable that way, after a couple of small bounces he decided to take off his boots to properly sit back against the headboard and put his feet up. though the news about stacey's twin had him look up concerned for a moment. "what bunker? what the fuck? oh wait, that's probably what bill's little psycho was talkin' about. i never know what the hell it's sayin'." then again he tried to keep his distance, because she was weirdly territorial over bill and he wasn't going to be the one to fight that battle.

"bill messed up his leg pretty bad when we were helping this guy who lives out in the forest take down that thing. but it sure as feck didn't look like no bear i'd ever seen before." poe visibly shuddered remembering the thing and the sounds it made. "long story short i was heading home and i got ushered into the compound because our road home was closed off and then i ended up getting interrogated but i didn't give them anything and bill met me there." poe didn't need to tell stacey this was the second time his da had to save him from those bastards. not yet anyways.

there was something about stacey that always made poe feel safe to be honest, even though poe had kept certain secrets from him for years. it was to be expected, though, after everything that happened to his mother and stigma around mutations in general. there was a reason he felt okay to talk about it now, seeing how stacey reacted then and how concerned he was in the present moment confirmed what poe had always knew in his heart.

stacey was a good man.

"anyways, after that thing died we had to get bill to the clinic and then had to get him into a place to stay at the crow's nest because we can't go home right now." poe made a face when he remembered showing bill and cilou to the room poe usually stayed in when he stayed at the motel. "but that thing is with him now, because it always has to find us and i had to help out with a lot of work stuff because there's no vacancy now. there's no way i can stay there with her there, so i think i may see if they'll let me crash at hell's gate or something." maybe sofia had an extra place she didn't mind him staying in.

eyebrows raise in an unknown combination of amusement and annoyance, following up his gaze with the slight narrowing of his eyes. how is this idiot even alive right now? if his duncelike nature didn't get him trouble, he was shocked his mouth hadn't been the very death of him. " do you truly not know what the word means, or is that an attempt at being coy? " he questions. and then there's the bribery, which he may as well have him arrested for. and yet, afterglow is not exactly in the business of jailing their guests in a time like this. " ....bribery of an officer, however, tells me all that i need to know. " but then there's the switch in tactics, which should be a clear sign that he's not supposed to be here. " i'll tell you what. walk out of here with me, and i won't have you arrested. out of the kindness of my heart. "

what games is the rebellion playing?

"that is not a word i've ever heard before." not that poe could claim the biggest vocabulary around. his mixture of a southern appalachian accent mixed with the remenants of scottish from being raised by his da ( even if bill wasn't his real father, he was the one he had and poe wouldn't be there without him ). poe couldn't keep in tune with the conversation he was having with this... apparently officer? he was too busy trying to think cold thoughts, happy thoughts ( there weren't many to go around ), anything to keep him from getting too warm and his mutation becoming obvious through his skin ( or the temperature of the room rising ).

it was successful, but at what cost?

"that sounds like entrapment, i didn't know you were an officer." no poe couldn't decipher the ranks by look alone. as any good common criminal and person with a mutation, he avoided the east atlantic army altogether and anyone who looked like they could be potentially linked to afterglow, for that matter. "how about you stay here and i walk out and we forget we ever saw each other at all, yeah?" that sounded like the best way but as it was, poe was already moving toward the door even if it was impossible to get through it without getting in reach of the officer.

❝ ach―! ❞ bill stumbles back exactly half a step out of sheer surprise when poe rushes forward to pull him into a tight embrace, but he's quick to reciprocate and pull the younger man into his arms, holding him tight against his chest. the relief at seeing him alive, at feeling proof that he survived whatever this place wanted with him right there beneath his own two hands, it's overwhelming. ❝ there ye are, lad, ❞ he murmurs as he holds the embrace, ❝ knew ye'd manage just fine. ❞

and that's the truth ; as much as bill worried―and he had, up until the very moment he could lay eyes on him now―he knows that poe is strong. stronger than him, certainly. he'd never admit he was smarter, but he's still young. he's got time to learn. and he's smart enough to know what to do in a place like this.

❝ aye, hunting,❞ bill confirms, reaching for poe's arm to pull him back and keep him close as they left the room and made to exit the facility. ❝ hitched a ride here frae the tall fellow out in the woods, the one's got all the feckin' bees. mad lad, that one, he's tryin' tae go after the bear. and seein' as he helped me, i reckon we owe it tae help him. two birds, one stone, that. won't haftae worry 'bout the big bastard comin' 'round our way. ye up fer it? ❞

there was no chance in hell that poe would ever admit how scared he'd been before his da showed up but he was sure that bill could feel the tremors of trembles beneath his skin when poe hugged him. poe wouldn't admit that fear, not out loud, and certainly not to the person he's always seen as so fearless. especially in the face of the many terrors the world was constantly unearthing. "well that makes one of us," is all he could mumble before he pulled away again.

"i haven't heard of him," poe tried not to stumble over his feet as bill pulled him back to walk in step with him. stay close, poe quickly got the hint. though it was taking every ounce of energy he had to not go running for the nearest door to the outside. who gives a fuck if there was a wicked snow storm for the ages out there? poe would much rather deal with that than the horror stories going on out there. "yeah i guess, just tell me what to do. let's get the feck out o' here before that soldier guy comes back, okay?" they could talk about the rest when they were alone again.

❝ you've got jokes, ❞ max deadpans. ❝ great. ❞

and okay, to be fair, maybe that is on him. maximilian has never been keen to roll in the welcome wagon for strangers. and why would he? they never seem to last long. maybe it's just that he's not squeamish, but he struggles to wrap his mind around why so many others seem unable to stomach the responsibilities of the job. who's to say this cawela won't request a transfer in a few weeks when he gets his first look at the kind of shit devil's elbow has to offer? forgive him for not preparing a warm welcome.

waste of time, as far as max is concerned. and anyway, it seems like his roommate was able to settle in just fine on his own.

❝ what are you even talking about, huh? ❞ it's not unlike him to be on the defensive with strangers, but there's something about this man's sly smile that has the young medic's hackles raised a little quicker than usual. ❝ there's no cake in the bunk, cawela. i don't even like― ❞ he cuts himself off the second the implication of his roommate's words dawns on him, jaw snapping shut with an audible click as he tries to physically will down the heat he can feel climbing his neck. was he looking? it doesn't matter. he's changed in front of countless guys. cawela's not the first, he certainly won't be the last. ❝ oh, very funny. fuck off. ❞

maximilian crosses the room, pulling out the chair at his small desk and dropping into it so he can begin to organize the things that cawela moved. ❝ what are you doing here anyway? didn't realize shit was so dire they were calling in reinforcements from overseas. ❞

"with your glorious caustic sardonicism thrown my way, i had no choice but to reciprocate." banks was smiling as he made a semi-serious attempt to answer max's rhetorical question. yes, he was keeping things light and making jokes where they would fit in, if not as an attempt to make the other man laugh— as a response to the defensive introduction they've had so far.

banks moved to his side of the room, taking a seat on his bed so he could finish unpacking his things. there wasn't much to be had. anything he wanted to keep safe he left with rafe, minus a few treasured items. a picture of the family in front of the home both banks and rafe were raised in, which he set up on his side table as a reminder of where he came from and where his loyalties would always lay. the current book he was reading, for obvious reasons, and a leatherbound journal, which is probably the only place he can work out his thoughts. make sense of everything going on in the world around him ( it also kept his rough sketches of maps and routes that he discovered that weren't on any official maps yet ).

he stopped putting things away to glance over at his new bunkmate in time to watch max work through the admittedly, off-key question banks had asked him. banks let out a melody of laughter and looked back down at his bag when the realization hit and he was promptly told to fuck off.

"oh come now, i was just tryin' to have a laugh with you. if you truly wish to continue forward in silence, we can. it may make working together in the field harder but i'm not trying to cramp your style, merrin. i promise." and he wasn't. banks was simply taking on his next assignment, closer to his cousin and preparing to get goods traveling into a new economy with the latter. all while finding his feet in a new place, of course, but he got plenty introduction to the east atlantic through his time integrating into the eaa, he's learning that devil's elbow and appalachia were its own breed of chaotic.

an eyebrow raised at his question and he looked across at the other man again. "i didn't come here for the eaa, i just filled an open position when i got here. this is my third assignment with the army." in the east atlantic, anyway. banks can't tell if max is genuinely interested or not, or trying to find ammo to throw back at him. didn't matter either way, he supposed. "am i your first? european commonwealth person, i mean. i can't imagine many of tried to make that journey over here." it's not like it was easy by any means, especially if you're prone to any kind of sea sickness which banks, unfortunately found out, he was. "still wondering if it was worth it, honestly. are you from here, merrin?"

Dante narrows his eyes at Banks' words, but doesn't otherwise respond to an obvious scathing jab. It's not a question that needs a reply, both of them know that, and so he isn't going to devolve whatever Banks intended with this into an argument about his feelings on the matter. Frankly, he's too old for that kind of shit.

Instead, as Banks states his negative to Dante's sort-of-invitation for a conversation, he sits up a bit more with a deep sigh. Dante gives the younger man a nod, slow and lingering in its motion, one of subtle agreement in the statement that follows the single syllable. He'd no qualms about it, even if his conversation with Rafe hadn't been quite so productive. The two don't strike Dante as incapable in the slightest; on the contrary, they carry themselves with the kind of experienced intention and confidence one earns only by having fallen and gotten up by one's own strength so many times.

In a way, if situations were different, if sentiments were different, he'd be proud of the two of them. Hell, he is proud, but he knows that neither Cawela boy would quite appreciate that acknowledgement from him.

Then Banks just comes out swinging, directly, with a question his older cousin hadn't even gotten to. Rafe had shut him down almost immediately, had made it clear that he doesn't barter in excuses, and the topic of his auntie hadn't even managed to come up so concrete as Banks put it. Had he abandoned his auntie? Perhaps, unintentionally, by being on an entirely different continent, trying to serve the Commonwealth, as foolish as tht turned out to be. And he's still doing it, isn't he?

"My child," he tells Banks, the same reason he had given Rafe, the reason Rafe had shut him down almost abruptly. Whatever problem the older Cawela cousin seemed to have with him, it didn't extend to Dottie, and trying to hide behind it, as Rafe had put it, hadn't won him any favours. But then, it is the honest truth. "Her mother had stolen her, kidnapped her, and, as it turns out, had attempted to drown her not long after the fact. I'd spent the better part of nineteen years trying to find her. And her mother."

But that's not the least of it. "I wrote every week. But," Dante sighs, rubbing his hands against his face slowly. "Your cousin told me you've served just as I have. And therefore I don't need to explain to you that the Commonwealth Army strictly serves itself. They were the intermediary between us. If your grandmother didn't get any messages from me, it's because the army we gave our lives to didn't want her to get them. Not because I didn't send them."

He drops his hands, a frown deepening lines etched into his face from a lifetime of worry and anger and fighting. "Look, lad. Maybe my apology won't mean shite to you like it ain't mean shite to your cousin, but... for what it's worth. I am sorry. Lot of shite I regret in my life. This is one on a long list of 'em. But my child... she ain't one of 'em, right?"

"sure, sure, sure," the words were spoken with some care, slow and sympathetic perhaps but with an undertone that left open the question if he was being sincere or not. banks heard about odette, too. not a ton but enough to know the poor thing had been through it and dante had not been there to stop any of it. which seems to be a pattern for the 'hero' cousin banks had never met or heard from. "well you'll have to forgive me, as someone who watched her talk about you everyday like y'could have been the next comin' of the lord or somethin'. it's hard for me to um, truly sympathize."

not that dante was asking him to, but banks figured he ought to be honest as he would like to think his cousin is being with him. the older man had no reason to lie about it now, right? it wasn't as if banks posed any threat to the weathered soldier. nor did he come there with malice or intention to hurt his cousin. banks just wanted some answers he knew rafe wouldn't bother with. believe he trusts all and everything rafe tells him, but he also knows how much bullshit rafe would entertain and what he wouldn't listen to.

"i ain't a lad no more, and you ain't need to apologize to me, mate. i don't know you, never knew you. i'm just blood that watched the most important people in my life wither away without being able to help them and your absence was shouted among those crumblin' walls."

obviously banks couldn't blame it all on him, there were many factors that led to the demise of their family— the commonwealth itself for one, their military, the oligarchs, deteriorating health, natural disasters, questionable monetary gain— general oppression. what europe exceled at, honestly, not much different than the soil he stood on now.

"actions speak louder than words, mate. you probably already know that, don't you?" banks chuckled quietly and took a drink from his glass and set it back down on the table. "at least with me, don't know if rafe will ever come 'round. he's not big on second chances." banks, against his better judgement, held his hand out to the man to shake. "for what it's worth, i am sorry about and for your child. wouldn't wish that on anyone but especially not blood."

Humans taste awful.

The throwaway comment spreads a broad grin across Cilou's face, something of a mix between child-like, performative, and absolutely manic. "Chewy." In its time, Cilou has bitten plenty of humans, ripped them half to shreds even on a single command, but it can't deny its curiosity why someone like Draven Thorne might know a thing like that.

And then he's directing it to the source of water, a delightful little current running down its spine at his use of the nickname. Certainly, 'Cilou' is already a shortening of its name, since its actual name is far too long, and—as its previous owner had told it, far too human—and the name Draven has bestowed upon it doesn't do more to shorten it in any manner, but it still excites it every time it hears it.

Perhaps that's why it's always so pleased to see him. After all, if he gives it a nickname that's not its nickname, then he must like it, right?

Cilou has already walked towards the kitchenette when he poses his question, turning the packaging to make an attempt at reading the instructions. The fact that it knows how to read—though not well—is something that had come from Bill, something that has helped it read the instructions for his medication in the past as well. Something it hasn't mentioned to any of its family, however. Its head lifts as it looks over at him, eyes a bit wide like a deer caught in headlights.

There's a long pause as it stares at him, still like a prey animal caught in the gaze of a predator. It's not that they don't know it disappears for nights on end, but it never said where it goes during those nights. It's never spoken Bill's name around its family, not because it wishes to hide him, but... Just because.

"Yes," it says finally, the single syllable uncharacteristically short and monotonous, turning back to the task at hand, adding water to the MRE, shaking the bag vigorously. There's an urge to tell him about Bill—it loves talking about Bill only slightly less than talking to Bill—a vibrating in its limbs beyond the shaking of the bag. "Is that bad?"

"yes, very chewy." draven couldn't argue with its logic on that one. he'd never claimed to be an academic at the best of times but he thoroughly believed himself to be wise on many subjects. especially those of the more macabre variety. he pulls inspiration from the lost media he's been able to get his hands on. moth knows he has plenty of time on his hands to consume it. draven refuses to watch the programming afterglow spews out to placate the masses.

the silence that fell between them wasn't unusual from draven's perspective. they figured loulou had become bored with their topic of conversation or drifted off into that void of a brain they possessed. if it wanted to come back to the present and talk, they were sure it would let them know.

an eyebrow arches over to it when it did finally give him a one word answer. "yeah?" there is a brief moment where he wondered who it might be that loulou has found to occupy its free time and is now missing. draven can't even begin to think of anyone, besides maybe that strange little creature that was supposedly the child of the night mother herself.

"no, why would it be bad? we're meant to bring others to the light regardless of our rank and we can't bring more dim ones in if we don't believe they would be a good addition." not that draven could talk on the matter, two of his closest companions were drifting steadily away from the light. the only thing he was holding onto was they remained with him, though he didn't know for how long. "who have you found in the darkness, loulou?"

it feels nice to be curled into their side, sitting in a silence that it soft and comfortable, warm in a way that he hasn't really felt since all of this snow had started. the question pulls him out of some kind of haze he hasn't even realized he's fallen into. he blinks and tilts his head up to look at them, unable to resist leaning in to press a gentle kiss against the corner of downturned lips.

"we could use my brother's place. no one's been living there since..." he trails off, blinks once and then shrugs quickly to brush off the next thought that is likely a bit more dark than necessary. "probably could use a good dusting, but otherwise, it's there. never got sold. bit of privacy for us and for those two awkward lovebirds. do you think they've actually, like..." he trails off again, letting the question linger unasked, wondering if the topic is too sensitive for what is essentially the big brother figure in the room. "anyway, i do think we should find somewhere to stay. the two of us."

"you think you're going to be okay to be in his place? didn't he have a whole ass family staying there?" draven realized more and more they hadn't asked much about dorian's brother after he passed. something about scratching the wound open before it got the chance to fully heal, if healing completely was even possible. draven still grieved the loss of his mother nearly a decade and a half later. some things were just too painful to forget. "i feel like you're just trying to see what i would look like on a ranch, aren't you?"

draven's face twisted into a common look of disgust at the thought of theodore and duri doing anything, let alone getting up to some of the nasty things that draven is into. "probably a bunch of boring vanilla poetry shit i do not want to attempt to imagine." gross. thankfully dorian didn't press the subject so they didn't have to dwell on it any longer. which was good, because the idea of it made that homicidal inclination towards theodore start to grow again. "what do we need to do to see about your brother's place, if you're sure that's even available?"

she offers a hum of her own, a noise that matches their own affirmative sound from before. it is, perhaps, one of the nicest things about draven, they don't really have to say much to communicate. they're far more in sync than anyone gives them credit for, even lately, when the appearance and the whispers claim they're drifting apart.

duri doesn't see it that way. she sees a soft place to land if she stumbles and falls at any point. no matter what might happen.

"perhaps, but i don't think he is in agreement with you on that front." her head nods subtly toward the listener, who has been seemingly making the rounds of the place, chatting up literally anyone who will offer him a bit of acknowledgment. "i think that in the worst case scenario, we can find a place to squat, but i do think that we'll have somewhere to stay. even if it's only temporary. i do have a boyfriend who has his own place. i would never want to be an imposition, but it could be an option to explore."

"no, no, i don't think he would, either." draven agreed, his lips pressing into a hard line of vague worry and concern. he's uncertain what would happen to dorian if the night mother found out dorian's faith was nearly non-existent. at least he knew kai wouldn't touch him, well it was not likely, at least. not unless the listener gave the order. draven has never been so ignorant to the fact that dorian was part of the eclipse more for his sake than to worship the dread father. just like he could see duri's faith ebb and flow over their time together.

maybe the problem was him, has he ever truly believed in any of this at all?

he thought he did. either way, this wasn't time to think about that as it always travels to some sort of existential dread in the end and has the potential to send him into a long bout of depression he could neither afford, nor cared to experience again any time soon. it was easier to compartmentalize and be angry instead. fight against all the fuckers that wanted to see him fail, whether anyone was thinking that or not.

it was probably an insubordinate move for draven to roll his crystal blue eyes after looking to where duri had nodded. they knew duri wouldn't call them out for it, not to the listener at least. perhaps to them, as a reminder but that was harmless. "are you honestly suggesting i sleep in tedward's place? have you asked him if he's okay with a couple of mothman musicians crashing in his little book nook in the city?" not that draven cared what he thought of them, however they weren't sure about letting their guard down to sleep somewhere if the owner of said place wished ill will of them.

it is no wonder to mikaere that so may members of the eclipse flock to the sound factory for refuge when they're not within the safety of the ranch's perimeter. or what was that safety, rather. the listener has already fought his way through ice and snow to return to what remained of their home. he knows better than most how little there is left. but this place, despite its flashing technicolor lights, it's dark. it's loud. it's a place someone could very easily disappear. draven might not be among the children working at the establishment, but mikaere keeps tabs on his own well enough to know that draven's band plays there from time to time, the one they're in with their future apostate of a lover. the children might be scattered to the wind for now, but he'd been hoping he might find the speaker here sooner or later.

once upon a time, draven could always count on music to give them solace until the children of mothman took its place. for a while there was no light but the eclipse to guide them through their days. it didn't stay gone, however. music crept back into their life soon after they were able to get completely clean again. it was people like duri and listener khan, along with his best friend, that made him want to stay with the eclipse and learn their ways. their devotion. draven figured if they could learn to be profound amongst the dread father's ranks or felt satisfied their musical journey was done, they would be able to find peace again.

and thus find the light in sobriety again.

no such luck so far in either direction and they found themselves going to the sound factory to drown out the endless loop of worries, stress fueled reminders, and, predominantly, haunting memories that plagued them over and over again.

if they weren't already used to the silent approach of eclipse members they might've jumped when mikaere announced his presence. instead, it snapped them out of their head, causing them to divert their icy gaze toward the older one. "i don't know that my access is greater than yours, but i swear i will do my best to keep them in the light, listener." draven was lying through their teeth. much of their music could be interpreted as odes and tales from their faith. but not even draven was sure that they were the prophet the listener was claiming them to be at that moment.

"i'm staying with duri and dorian currently, but dorian and i were planning to see if we could stay at his brother's old place." they left teddy and his brother out of it, as evil as some may think they are, they weren't trying to disrupt teddy's life anymore than they already have. he was kind to them when he certainly didn't need to be. "where are you staying? kai? others?"

oh boy, was sasha familiar with the dynamic. he himself was no stranger to what one might call yearning -- his method of flirting nervous and quite frankly, questionable. thus, while he had no intention of judging, he was in no place to do so. " oooooh, so you are the wingman? i suppose that can keep you entertained. " sasha laughs, a knowing look gracing knowing, nervous features. he still felt like he had to look over his shoulder, hoping he appeared generic enough to evade detection. has anyone ever hoped to be nothing out of the ordinary before? that he looked just as average as the joe next to him? " i see, i see. are you feeling alright now? " of course the fact that he was here so frequently meant that he was enduring something quietly. " i... kind of got coralled with everyone else like a sheep at first. but... my friend frankie is here. if i'm honest, she is frankly like blood. "

lucky listened intently to sasha speak, mostly because he sounded both super smart and profound. like a russian topher that went to college or something. what sasha said made sense to him, that was the main point and not a lot of people's way of explaining things do make a whole lot of sense to lucky. it's often why he liked having someone he trusts around to listen in and explain what they were talking about later. it was a whole thing. "word? yeah, cool. sometime people don't get it, like i wish i could be a good luck charm but in reality it only really works on me and i'm just great at not dying which everyone alive is already kind of doing already." lucky rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"yeah, he's having a rough time." lucky leaned in to whisper a little so no lingering soldiers or security could hear him. "they sedated him twice yesterday and he's kinda ultra-paranoid right now." which he hoped to help him out with some more when they got back to their room. it's not like lucky was a good baby sitter as far as keeping him out of trouble was concerned, but he was an excellent trip sitter and could definitely help the dude work through some paranoia or conspiracy shit. it was actually one of lucky's favorite things to do.

"oh yeah," lucky lightly drummed a couple of hands on his stomach and smiled over at the other man. "good as new!" a dopey laugh followed his lame joke and stopped just in time to listen about sasha's friend only to laugh again. "frankie, frankly. that's funny, sorry, it's dumb but it just itches something in my brain, y'know?" lucky felt awkward for pointing out after the words were out of his mouth because he wasn't trying to judge sasha's word choices. lucky just thought it was a fun little tongue twister the other man executed perfectly. "anyways that's cool. that's how i feel about toph. it's really cool when some just gets you, right?"

by the time wder got word that the roads from the compound back to burnington had been plowed, the fishery parking lot was already impressively clear ; topher doesn't know nearly as much about the younger fisher twin as he does jonah, but he'll admit he's impressed by the work ethic. the fishery was shoveled and salted and topher, much to his surprise, was one of the first to reap the benefits as he pulled up to the blessedly empty lot. that was hours ago, and topher's been waiting inside in preparation for lucky and jonah's return ever since. judah is still around somewhere, he thinks, maybe shoveling out the airstream, but he's alone in the shop when the front door swings open.

the second topher lays eyes on lucky, he's up on his feet and racing across the room to pull his best friend into a hug. ❝ holy fuckin' shit, ❞ toph echoes the sentiment, holding onto him until he makes a move to pull away from the embrace. ❝ dude, i don't know why i didn't just go with you in the first place for like, moral support, but i'm never making that mistake again. trust me. ❞ he doesn't ever want to deal with another crisis without lucky by his side again. ❝ first and last time. deal? ❞

toph can't help but laugh at the questions his best friend immediately starts slinging his way, shaking his head. ❝ y'know, if i recall correctly, you were the one falling apart the last time we saw each other. how come i'm not starting with the questions here? ❞ to be fair, though, lucky had been snowed in at what was likely the best place for him in the event of a medical emergency. ❝ i'm good, everything's good, ❞ he reassures him. and he means it, too. nothing hurts―well, not beyond the normal aches and pains that come from having a body like his in weather like this―and he's not having a bad vision day. he's okay. ❝ are you okay? did you get to see your doctor? ❞

it became apparent to lucky as he wrapped his arms tightly around his best friend ( as it has many times before ) that home could really be a person and his was topher haas. lucky held on for a good long while before he finally pulled away and nodded his head rapidly at topher's words.

"no, i get it but like yeah, never again, dude. i swear i was trying to do my best with jojo fisher but all i could think about you guys and mostly you and if you were okay. all that cold air must've made your shit ache, huh?" lucky didn't like that he wasn't there to help thc balm where it hurt the most and help massage or stretch out some of the pain. keep each other warm and all that. it just sucked and lucky didn't want to have to go through that again. plus, topher knew all of lucky's medical shit, too. could often recall his flare ups and attacks better than lucky could when the doctors or nurses would ask. "deal."

they just worked better together.

a blown raspberry vibrated lucky's lips at toph's comment on the state of who's health the last time they were together. "listen i can obviously breathe now and i just came from a giant medical facility, not the local parks and rec center, bro. not the same." after the words all tumbled from lucky's mouth he wasn't even sure what he'd said anymore and took a second to blink, shake his head, then ultimately shrug when the rest of his argument drifted into the void.

she isn't expecting lucky, and when her mouth opens to say hi, the word doesn't make it out before something is happening, and her brain needs another second to click that they're kissing and her entire body seems to lean into it, arms winding up around his neck and popping up on her tiptoes to try and alleviate just how much he has to bend down to reach her.

he could feel his face warm when daria's hands move to his face. luckily the cold air outside could mask any blush that had appeared on his cheeks. "word," he answered, followed by a breathy giggle before standing up straight and clearing his throat, smoothing out his coat as if he cared if his coat was wrinkly or not. "i will, uh, definitely do that." lucky nodded and watched her move into her place, following after and closing the door behind him.

"sorry it took me awhile, but toph said you guys were super cool to him at the community center and i just kind of wanted to come say thanks and then um," he looked back toward the door as he motioned to it. "do that. but i should be honest about something." lucky didn't want to skip steps or intrude, he wasn't trying to be a burden so soon into whatever it was they were forming there relationship wise. but, he also kind of needed to know sooner rather than later where he was staying that night at the very least. "would you mind if i crashed with you tonight? i don't know when the snow will melt and toph is staying with the fishers, well jojo at least and they said i could stay there too but i thought it'd be better to give them some time, you know?" jonah had a rough week and he was probably sick of lucky's face at that point.

Finn's words are met with a simple shrug, whatever sting they ought to deliver not sticking with the younger O'Brien. He's been called worse, by family even, and after 28 years on this planet, Daithí has learned that whatever his brothers say, whatever they call him—or each other—ultimately doesn't mean anything. It's simply how they talk, it's how he himself talks as a consequence of having been effectively raised by these men, and it doesn't define the relationship.

"I don't know if the army thinks it's real," Daithí counters, not really as an argument to stay away from it—Daithí may be dull-witted at some times, but he has no intention to personally fight a bear, especially one rumoured to be as scary as this one. Hell, he doesn't know if he thinks it's real, either. The way Finn is talking, however, he seems to think it is, and he doesn't know his brother to be the fanciful type of person. Perhaps there's some truth behind it all, then.

"No, I only waited for an hour." As if waiting an hour for anyone is a normal run-of-the-mill thing to do. "I think Dee got a bit tired of me, I've been tryna get her t' eat more'n a few crumbs at a time. Do ye know how long we might be here for? I haven't been able to get through to Celia, wanna know if they're okay."

while his younger brother spoke, finn rolled his neck from side to side trying to relieve some of the tension thinking it was the dull throb behind his eyes. it did nothing. which prompted him to pull out his sunglasses and put them on. the bright white of the outside creeping blasting through the windows mixed with the fluorescent, clinical lighting of the compound were partially to blame. forced sobriety was the other fault, which he planned to change soon. maybe his younger brother had some.

looking over to the younger man, he assessed it wasn't worth asking. daithiti looked painfully sober and that wasn't someone who carried a flask around with him while the sun was up. then again, it was finn's own damn fault for not bringing his with him. it wasn't important. he knew where to get what he needed, even in a snow storm.

"gon t' learn it's real pretty quick then, ain't they?" finn chuckled. "hopefully the wind dies down 'nough so we can see the bloodbath live." that would certainly be worth the, for lack of better word, uncomfortable entrapment. not that they would be so privilidged. maybe it was something he would ask dio about later. see if there were any leads about the beast as to not waste his time ( and spare his eyes ) looking out windows for it.

finn grumbled something unintelligible to the length of time his younger brother waited. "tell 'er too feckin' bad, it ain't time for dramatics." this family was more a curse than a blessing ninety-five percent of the time, he swore it. "outlook is two days t' who the feck knows when. that one is a fighter, 'm sure the lass is fine." finn made his way down the hall alongside his brother and toward the connecting catwalk to the other building. "all i care about right now is a little exploration and finding something worth drinking in this shit hole. ye comin' with me, then?"