#post explosion

Some post-explosion sketches from the weekend. I will fully and unashamedly use this new found power of having 3D references of their flat, to just paint over and it looks nice, until I throw up.

(post-explosion | canon-adjacent | quiet horror |

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• selene never asks why thing prefers her company. she assumes he likes stillness. he sits near her shadows, never inside them, like he knows better.

• thing is careful with her in a way he isn’t with others. no sudden taps. no sharp pulls. his touch is deliberate, hesitant, as if he’s afraid of being recognized.

• selene feels something she can’t name when he’s nearby. not comfort. familiarity. the same feeling as standing in a place where something important once happened and realizing you cried there but not remembering why.

• thing reacts to selene before she speaks. before she moves. sometimes before she decides. he adjusts lights. intercepts doors. positions himself between her and danger without being asked.

• once, selene says softly, half-amused, “you’re very good at anticipating.” thing freezes. then resumes what he was doing, slower.

• her shadows do not recoil from him. they treat him like a fixture. something that has always belonged to the space around her.

• thing does not remember isaac. there are no thoughts. no images. no names. but instinct lingers in the wrong places.

• he recognizes selene’s silences. the way she goes still when she’s afraid. the way she weighs choices instead of feelings.

• when selene hesitates over something, thing responds and comforts her

• sometimes thing hides his palm when selene notices blood or damage nearby. like shame without context.

• selene never asks where thing came from. she learned, long ago, that some origins are wounds.

•once, she almost asks, “did i know you before” the question dies on her tongue. she decides she doesn’t need the answer.

mello hits his head HARD when the explosion happens. it knocks him out cold for the next couple of weeks, until he wakes up on a couch in someone’s apartment and can’t remember how he got there. when matt walks into the room, mello doesn’t remember who he is; he frantically panics thinking he’s been kidnapped or drugged. matt tells him what happened, and mello has a fun blown meltdown, tears and all.

he’s changed a lot, his personality is different from what it used to be. he used to be extroverted, calm, and simply content. now he’s deranged, chaotic, messy. he’s emotional and impatient. he’s forgetful.

but he faintly remembers life at wammy’s. there was a kid… white hair..? a successor mission…?

but what does all of it mean?

when he sees himself in the mirror he’s livid. even though it’s hard to remember what he used to look like, he knows this isn’t how it’s always been. there’s an ache in his heart, but he can’t quite figure out why.

the news broadcasts over the following months ignite a reminder. oh yeah, he’s supposed to be chasing after kira. the world wide known murderer.

on the day of his death he has an odd feeling. he knows a something terrible will happen, but doesn’t listen to it. even though he doesn’t remember matt from his childhood, he still grieves for him and cries until his lungs are sore. he took such great care of him while he recovered, and this was the ending he got?

the moment his heart slows, he rests his head on the steering wheel and lets it happen. once burned by fire, now eaten and engulfed in it.

Have a seat, thanks to innovations in wave form relapse the Director is seeing you concurrently. 

First, Melinoë Labs has a twitter, (@melinoelabs) which distributes essential safety bullitens and public awareness materials. 

Another one for Trope Tuesday! Same guy but different trope!

When they’re so hurt and weary they can barely hold their hand up, in this case, to drink or even touch their rescuer… Goodness.

The issue of not being able to see the timeline of the twins was becoming obvious. Especially when the news informed Vine of what had happened.

This blind spot was becoming increasingly more concerning. Because this time it was involving her favorites.

Ignoring most protocols and security issues, Vine came. She had a smaller container this time, a medical supply kit with all the quick-fixes for Patch's scrapes and injuries, painkillers for the long term, and a quick-made order for new prosthetic legs. She couldn't help her pizzazz on these things, and made them a shiny gold.

LOCATION: The Lost Word loft apartment above.

MENTIONED: @romanmcnulty @fenderbryne

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

Kathryn sat alone in the dimly lit loft apartment that sat above the Lost Word. It was her sanctuary of solitude which now felt more suffocating, as if the walls were closing in around her. The events of that night replayed in her mind like a haunting melody, each note a sharp pang of pain. The car bomb that had taken Roman away at the snap of her fingers one minute of life was going right and the next...it was hell on earth. It was true; the devil walked among them. That same fire that'd taken Roman away had also left its mark on her body. Her arms and back bore the scars of the explosion, a constant reminder of the tragedy that had shattered her world. Thankfully, the bandages stopped her from picking at the ugliness of them.