#a.event06

"Have you not done enough damage to me lately?" It's a fine hello- and if it were for anyone else, they'd be apologetic. But Absinthe doesn't even need to turn around to know who's approached. It's a curse, perhaps- to know one another so intrinsically that Sin could recognize Raziel deaf, dumb, and blind- to hate the person who's scars move in perfect lockstep with one's own. "Whatever it is you are here to say I have... I have no interest in hearing it." They grimace, lighting the end of a cigarette and taking a drag just in time to be staring Raziel down.

It's your mouth muttering filth in Italian in the moment. It's never a problem until you remember you're not supposed to be here, with a fist in your hair and teeth in your lower lip- not with them, anyway.

He tears his gaze away- down. a subtle deferment of power. "What do you want, Raziel? Pleasantries? Small talk? Observations about the weather? Do you want me to get on my knees and beg you to let me be?" He inhales, brows knitting as he blows smoke into Raz's face. "Because I would much rather just smoke. I am not often afforded a break from you or your little pet project you've made of Quinn. Or her brute for that matter."

@ambercast

There's nothing quite like guilt gnawing at him to make Absinthe crave escape- the art fair is full of booths, music, sound and life- he should be thrilled, they had always cited their fondness for Huntsville's insistence on survival- joy in the little things, despite the circumstances. But their stomach is turning, and in the walls of their mind, Sin is clawing for anything to make their disgust with themselves go away.

The hands are familiar where they sit against your body. You follow them willingly until 'better judgement' settles in. It barely found you this time.

He shakes his head, swallows tightly.

"DADADADADA." Cold spirals down his back as he turns around, blue eyes settling on Joei in- Esther's arms. After a cursory, terrified glance around, for anyone that god forbid- might have heard- Sin swallows- and waves Esther down.

"Hey. I- we need to talk. Or... I need to talk, and I need you to listen. Do you have a minute, Esth?" They've got enough on their plate now- lying to Esther and forcing Ondine to do the same needs to stop- Sin just hopes that what they have to say doesn't... chase them off for good. "It's important. I've. Not been wholly honest, with you."

@estherwestfall

"Mx Feng." It's almost impressive, how easily Sin can produce a forced casualness to his voice- approaching perhaps unexpectedly from a quiet corner of main street and the fair's many booths and gently catching Ondine by the wrist. He'd hoped beyond hope he'd find the time for this anywhere else- in private, at bare minimum- but he'll take an alleyway and the shade- he'd take worse than that, just for a few moments of peace with them. It's only once away from prying eyes that he shifts- reels her in smoothly, with tattooed hands at their waist, to set a kiss against familiar lips.

And then guilt and disgust assail a moment he'd hoped might be peaceful, and there is a pause- silence as their forehead settles against Deen's lightly. "Sorry I- I just- I need to speak with you and Esther today." She's known them long enough to be able to catch the way he can't quite meet their eyes, the way fond hands hesitate where they hold her hips. "I am... unsure how much longer I can do... This." He moves a hand- motions at the space between buildings he's tugged them into. The secrecy, the are-or-are-we-nots of everything- the three of them were not exclusive- but he is sick to his stomach for the decisions he's made- and the lies he's clung to, with Esther- and made Ondine complicit in.

"I am falling apart, and I am making horrible choices for it- do- do you have the time to... take a walk with me? A little further away from... everything."

@exmcrtis