#nova01

Jacqui practically squealed when they saw Nova in the park, graceful as they went over to join them, collapsing into the grass at his side. "Smoke with me?" they crooned, sprawling out as they pulled their bowl out of their bag, an eyebrow arching up in invitation - not that Nova needed one, they were sure.

“I swear to god,” Noor said, glancing down at her phone, irritation already evident on her face as she leaned back in her seat at the small coffee shop at campus. “If your ex says he probably gave you chlamydia, you text him telling him to go fuck himself when you’re positive, he should probably check in at some point before the week of antibiotics is up, right?” she ranted to Nova, the two girls having become friends thanks to photography classes they were in together. “But, nope. Seventh day of antibiotics this morning and Jack can’t even be bothered to text me back. I swear to god, I’m going to kill him.” 

Eventually, hunger outweighs his desire to stay in bed until he wakes up from this nightmare. He shrugs on his coat, wraps his scarf around his neck, and gives the closet where that offensive body pillow has been stuffed one last scandalized glance before gritting his teeth and opening the door. Ever since he managed to find his house, he had clung to his bed for dear life, but that changes today.

The first place he stumbles across is a little coffee shop that looks like it also serves soup and sandwiches. While this isn’t his first choice of food, he’s starving. Besides, coffee sounds nice.

The shop is practically empty when he walks in, and it looks like there’s only one girl working there. He takes in her bubblegum hair and black-accented pastel attire before resolving to approach the counter.

But, she suffered along much better than her handful of counterparts. Many were trying to cry in silence, and some did not even try to quiet their moans and groans and sobs. Morta rolled her eyes. Wallowing in pessimism would not get one anywhere. And she was very sure that she was going somewhere. Somewhere outside of the clutch of the Scouts, in fact, was her particular destination.

They were close to the Pit. That was what she had heard them call it. What she had imagined it to be, though, was nothing close to what it was. They were herded and corralled out of the van and into a dark underworld. Morta wished that she might only be guilty of committing hyperbolic description, but truly it was. Underground and hot, cramped even from outside the limits of the shacks that composed the unofficial borders of the civilization.

Slipping away was no easy feat. She had to be careful, inconspicuous, and deny guilt at leaving the others behind. To Morta, however, staying in the group was no option. She did not know what her fate would be if she did, but she was fully prepared to never find out. Under the cover of disorganized chaos as one man fainted away, she ducked out and ran to the nearest shadow. She had long since been swallowed by the labyrinthine alleyways by the time anyone noticed that she was missing.