#mogared

                 It’s been but barely two days since Geoff was killed for the first time, and the mood in the air is bitter and apprehensive. The First is alone, in the shade of his stone monolith, the Fool deserting him to instead harass the Builder. A figure approaches and he squints against the sun, slightly sitting up from where he rests in the grass and relaxing again when the Warrior tosses down his loot from the mobs and sinks onto the grass besides him, muttering cynical words.

Home. 

                The notion brings up a recent memory-

{{He wakes up  s c r e a m i n g -                           heart pounding                           blood ringing in ears                           fingers clawing at sheets                           the phantom pain in his chest.        Cold, white, clammy hands scrabble for the hilt of a weapon two desperate grasps        too far away.        Weaponless, he faces off against the darkness and the fears contained within,        trembling as he had never allowed himself to shake before."I’m sorry-"          Whispers consume the silence with apology that will never see the light of day.}}

Heart. 

          A better, earlier memory now-

           {{Whooping, Michael leads his lads into the fray, a capture-the-tower, or so they’ve dubbed it- between the younger and older.                                                          Lads and Gents.           Across the map Ryan lies in wait as Michael bounds his way across the upper part of the structure, and below Geoff hunts for Gavin in the maze of cacti. Jack gives a friendly wave to Ray and makes a foolhardy run for the Lad’s tower, getting shot down and popping back out unharmed of the Gent’s bunker.          Admist the playful competition, Geoff is grinning and yelling out like a childish schoolboy, his future burden something he would never guess to happen. His heart is with his boys, his friends, his confidants.}}

      The image fades and he is brought back to the present with an odd, wistful smile on his tired and no longer immortal features.

  “No.” He says softly, looking at Michael-               his loudmouth, the wild child with a fierce passion and loyalty                                                  -with a gentle fatherly gaze usually reserved for Gavin.

//what no omg shh. you and i and everyone else are on equal footing here im no better than you ok. <3

//ye u did cuz u a cutie

/wee oo wee oo cutie alert