#delphiia

Excuse him, he’s just going to throw himself at his sister and hug the breath out of her. 

It’s an old habit he can’t shake. He's already checked in with the team for the night, but that doesn’t stop him from checking in on Torunn for the third or fourth time in one evening. The idea that she could have died all alone in space won’t let him rest. It hasn’t for years now. James reaches a hand out, shaking his sister’s shoulder gently. “Torunn? You awake?” If she wasn’t already, she probably was now.

HE    LOOKS    TOO    MUCH    LIKE    SONYA  !  counterparts,    how    ironic.    you    swallow    hard,    looking    directly    at    him.    “you    knew    alby    right?”    his    name    sounds    foreign    on    your    lips.    but    you    can    see    him    so    clearly,    you    remember    him,    your    mother,    your    father,    everything,    yet    the    name    is    strange.    “was...    did    he....    did    he    suffer?    when    he    died?”

     don’t mind her squinting, she’s just trying to figure out why he looks so freaking familiar. “newt, right? weird name.” not as weird as frypan, but she can pick on that later. “ --- i’m rachel. welcome to the right arm, and all of that.”

                “This is why they put those sign language things in the school diaries don’t they...” Blue wondered to herself. She never thought it would actually become useful. Now it was useful, and likely hidden under laundry in her room, which was not here and so no useful at all anyway. Gansey would know how to deal with this. He seemed like he’d know how to sign. “I'm sorry I can’t understand you."

     “your maze just get busted out, too?” he schools himself to be casual, taking a seat next to newt at the compound’s cafeterai table. the glue. tesla always thought it was a pretty stupid title, no matter how apt. “mine’s been out for a week now. kinda crazy how fast things change, right?”

                           What a delight to have such a little treat walk into her trap bake sale. A special even just for London, to meet Tante Totenkinder and sample of her next line of products to be sold in the United Kingdom’s supermarkets -- but more importantly they could be bought freshly baked in her newest bakery. Give children a piece and they’ll come for more she had found.   ❝ You look famished my pet, ❞  she said, leaning to extend her platter of cakes and pastries -- and the whiff she catches from him is divine, the scent of the forbidden fruit hangs upon him and how her mouth waters.  ❝ Have something from my tray, my treat to you. Jam delight? Custard tart? Cheescake? My special angel biscuits? ❞

@delphiia   /    because i needed something short while we’re plotting or just blabbing about our children ok