#lore97

but  ,  unlike  the  typical  teenage  run  away  ;  this  is  not  a  love  story  ,  they’re  not  fleeing  together  simply  because  they  were  ,  for  lack  of  a  better  word ,  involved  .  well  ,  it  may  have  been  a  factor  ,  but  alas  ,  that  was  not  the  entirety  .  no  ,  she  felt  she  had  to  get  out  from  underneath  the  confines  of  the  school  ;  and  after  two  rebuilds  when  she  and  kai  would  rendezvous  ,  it  was  just  getting  tiresome  .  besides  ,  she  was  eighteen  ,  not  only  that  ,  a  fully  activated  tribrid  ,  intent  on  harnessing  her  power  within ,  and  on  learning  how  to  accept  the  fact  that  she  was  now  one  of  the  MOST  POWERFUL  entities  on  the  face  of  the  planet  ;  if  she  hadn’t been  already  ,  no  longer  bound  by  mortal  coil  .    ❝  .  .  .  ready ? ❞    question  comes  ,  following  a  shift  of  her  focus  to  him  .  

@lore97: “ if you need anything, you know where to find me. “ from rey | meme

No one could've predicted the outcome, the utter loss of lives that were gone in an instant, and what was left was but a handful. He'd been left stunned, wordless since his feet dragged his numb body along the salt hills onto the Falcon, then straight into the furthest storage room in the back, locking himself in the dark. On the other side of the door were the sighs of the survivors, obviously grateful for the rescue, and for the chance to fight another day. He didn't intend to join them anytime soon; not even the imagined sound of his aunt's voice could soothe his spirit.

And maybe he was selfish to act as if he was the only one shattered by such tragedy, but this isolation had provided him shelter against the vulnerability he was wearing like a constricting garment. He couldn't tell how long the metal flooring at his feet had been stained with his tears. Too long, perhaps, that he didn't move a muscle when the door slid open and the figure of Rey stood in the center with the ship's lights silhouetting her frame.

He couldn't bring himself to speak just yet. He'd rather not use his own words; they'd come out mangled and broken if he so much as said a single syllable. Though, it seemed like Rey took it upon herself to remove the sullen air around them.

KSJHGFSGHSJKKSGS that's exactly what i'm trying to bring to the table so i appreciate that u noticed and ily. blessed and high favoured that u followed me back after unfollowing me last week.

𝚆𝙴𝙻𝙻.  𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂  𝚆𝙰𝚂  𝚄𝙽𝙴𝚇𝙿𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳.  she’d  been  told  one  thousand  and  one  times  to  never  take  the  trash  out  alone  at  night,  especially  when  she  was  working  lates.  and  yet,  even  with  a  brain  pumped  full  of  serial  killer  knowledge  and  crime  scene  photos,  she  finds  herself  doing  𝐽𝑈𝑆𝑇  𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑇.  she’d  only  noticed  him  once  the  dumpster  lid  fell  closed  and  the  sound  of  shoes  along  wet  asphalt  crunched.  first  thought  was  maybe  he  needed  a  light.  𝑆𝑇𝑈𝑃𝐼𝐷,  𝑆𝑇𝑈𝑃𝐼𝐷  𝐺𝐼𝑅𝐿  .  it’s  a  mere  beat  later  that  he’s  brandishing  a  knife  in  her  direction.  𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑙  𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑐𝘩𝑒𝑠  𝑡𝘩𝑒  𝑦𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤  𝑙𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡  𝑜𝑓  𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑡  𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑠  𝑎𝑛𝑑  𝑠𝘩𝑒  𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑠  𝑏𝑜𝑡𝘩  𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠  𝑖𝑛  𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟.              “my  wallet’s  in  my  pocket.  i’m  going  to  reach  for  it  and  toss  it  over,  alright?  just--  𝙱𝙴  𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙻.”

the theatre is quiet, and ellie’s noticed that the only time it’s not is when the squeaking of floorboards shift slightly under her feet. they tend to allow each other to just be in their company - she thinks it’s because dina doesn’t know what to say, or if there’s anything she can say, because ellie’s shoulders slump forward and she stares over at the abandoned guitar like it’s the reason she’s here. (it was a good find - fuck, it was a great find. but she touches over the strings and she just hears joel’s laugh in her head. well, what’re the chances of that, kiddo? they would laugh, and joel’d play something stupid and old-worldy.)

they don’t have to talk. they’ve both sacrificed comfort and waking up neck-pain-free for the past few months, and the lumpy couch in the back of the theatre really hasn’t helped a single fucking bit, but when ellie sits up and rolls her neck with an arched stretch in her back, dina follows her and they sit for a while. ellie carefully reaches out for her hand and once she finds it, she sits them both in her lap and the theatre is quiet again.

hey... she hears the exertion when dina reaches out for the brush on the side - it’s a quiet, stubborn ngh born from the comb being slightly out of reach, but she finds it eventually and starts with her fingers. (it’s gentle. dina slides her fingers through the knotted mess at the back of her head before following the same thread with the comb.)

if it’s between here - a dusty, dim-lit parking garage with veins of spores crawling out from the cracks in the walls and the stench of fucking rot criss-crossing between each car and empty fucking tank - or out there, she’ll pick here. (she can hear the slam and screech of body after body piling up against the waning garage gate, and there’s a two-inch sliver of slight that’s cracking through the bottom of the shutter door, and a tense metal chain starting to bow under the weight. fuck.)

she’s crouched down the side of one of the trucks - thanks, fedra, for using tires bigger than her entire fucking torso, because she tugs one foot up from the other and she hauls herself under the body of the vehicle. she breaths heavy, quiet, the rise and fall of her chest being the only thing she can focus on while the horde outside echoes through the entire garage - slam, fuck, god, okay, fucking think, ellie, fucking think. abby has her trapped, mostly, because there’s only a few discarded vehicles to hide behind, and three of them have been rocked onto their sides and their windows shattered out.

(she’s been tracking her for a while. body after body. one wolf to the next, and there’s a whole fucking trail of blood that she can’t quite scrub out from the soles of her converse. where is abby. where the fuck is abby. in an ideal world, they’d be alone. in an ideal world, it’d be over - one bullet between her fucking eyes, just to get it over with, or she’d grab the crowbar from the other side of the lot and show her exactly what it felt like. but it won’t happen like this. she doesn’t want to lose her, but what’s gonna happen at the end of this?)

“not until you fucking die.”    it’s coupled with a single, surprisingly well-placed shot toward the garage door. it’s all a game of faith - having faith in how these fuckers work, in the way the bullet clinks against the chain and the way it loosens and whips out like a snake. the shutter shoots up and for a moment, the light is blinding, followed by the screaming of runner and clicker alike. holy fuck, that’s a lot -