Illinois shakes the bag of peanuts he’d discovered and then offers it out to Yancy. They’re sitting side by side, a knee drawn up to brace a forearm on. “ I don’t even remember being frozen. I’m not sure I ever was, ” says Illinois, clicking his tongue. “ I just… woke up here. ”

Yancy hums, accepting the offered treat. “ Guess youse and I both got a swept up, yeah? ”

Illinois nods slowly, tilting his head back to stare upward at the odd metal ceiling, it’s arching roof and sloping shelves. It seems they both have reason to hide away here. And neither of them knows how to get back where they came from.

If they even can.

Gradually, he becomes aware of a weight against his shoulder. Illinois glances down, and he realizes that Yancy’s head has drifted down to rest against his arm. He smiles a little to himself, and lets his weight settle back a bit more firmly into the wall.

He paused before getting too comfortable, and he leans down and gently brushes a soft kiss over the top of his head.

Protective Starters (Accepting!)

@priscnblues

-

A sentiment that should have been brushed aside only served to infuriate Ethan as he whipped around to glare at his twin. "And why do youse feel the need to do that, huh!? Don't youse think it would be doing everyone a lotta favours if those assholes had gotten their way and sent me down to the infirmary?! Then that'd mean youse would have more better things to do than have to waste youse's time babysitting your fucking dumbass of a brother!" What started as a snap at a reasonable level had escalated into shouting, culminating with him throwing all his frustration into kicking the bed frame. It rattled, but no proper damage was caused.

U.ndertale Sentence Starters (Accepting!)

@priscnblues

-

Ethan snorted as rested both hands on his hips to peer down at Orson. "Sounds like a luxury. Usually I let myself feel like garbage when lying under that tree in the rec yard." It wasn't something to feel ashamed of. Both twins had moments like this. If anyone could understand the low moments, it was the brother.

He stayed like that for a moment before deciding to lower himself onto the ground beside Orson. It wasn't the smartest move, seeing as their cell space was limited, but it was the act of solidarity that mattered more. Being there for Orson, even if they lay there in silence, was the most important thing.

Random Dialogue Plots (Accepting!)

@priscnblues

-

It had been a quiet evening in the cell. One twin was relaxing in his bunk, while the other sat on the floor and focused on his studies. Yancy was not as smart as Orson, and it had shown over the years in school. Yancy trailed miles behind his twin, something that was made more apparent in later years when a learning difficulty was finally diagnosed. It was only in prison that he was inspired by Orson's love of reading to make a proper effort to improve his literacy, however little it may be.

Of course, it wasn't quite that simple. While slowly reading a comprehension, he hummed a melody quietly to himself. It was something he heard on the radio, though his version was low and soft, almost like a lullaby.

A voice stirred him out of his thoughts, and Yancy looked over his shoulder at Orson. There was a chuckle that accompanied a guilty smile.

@priscnblues

-

High up in the atrium, Gunther was able to watch the crew hurry back and forth while on his smoke break. It was his favourite spot to get away from it all. And, apparently, someone else thought the same.

Gunther was not someone who could say he knew every single crew on board. However, he did know when there was a stranger. This must have been the guy from the cryo that no one knew existed who now works with machinery of some sort. He had an aesthetic choice that Gunther could certainly get behind. Perhaps that was why he reached down to one of the zipped pockets in his cargo pants to pull out a worn, metal lighter.

@priscnblues asked: 🤝 + 39

[ fifty reasons to touch someone ]

39. YANCY touches HARE ... because HE is running out of time.

of all of the people in all of the lifetimes you've been forced to live, this is one of the few, at least, that you needn't worry about explaining yourself to. hare imagines you aren't the sort to even try — hell, neither are they — but it doesn't even have to cross your mind, whether you're truly aware of it or not.

SITTING ON THE TRACKS,

WAITING FOR THE NIGHT TRAIN—

LOOKING DOWN THE ROAD,

AIN'T NEVER GONNA GO BACK!

you hold onto hare's wiry frame as if they could anchor you in the storm, squeezing them so tight that it nearly hurts them — yet they don't so much as twitch, not trying to squirm away. the ugly, cloying pull of the void is a sensation you needn't recognize to fear. hare knows it well. sometimes it washes over you as quickly as a heartbeat, and you're somewhere else.

sometimes, it feels as if the devil himself has come to drag you down into hell.

LISTEN FOR THE WHISTLE,

THROUGH THE WIND AND RAINDROP —

WHO'S GONNA RIDE THE DEVIL'S TRAIN TONIGHT?

there needn't be an exchange of words for hare to understand what you must be thinking. resigned, and yet still afraid. it's difficult to shake the fear, even now. the endless games the two of you must play, over and over again, with varying levels of success. even if you know the end must be lurking around the corner, you still try to cling onto whatever you might have that you wish to keep. despite being certain you will lose it.

﹣﹣  ·  𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡  ·   //    ❖    @priscnblues   ❖    accepting

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄  𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒  𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄  𝐀𝐍  𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖.      &&  that’s  to  say  it  doesn’t.    not  here,    not  in  my  life,    in  our  lives.    we  wouldn’t  be  granted  such  luxury.     what  tense  does  one  frame  one’s  life  then?    

                          dies,    died,    will  die.

i  stare  through  him  for  a  moment,    &&  pray  to  no  one  who  might  be  listening  that  he  can’t  see  through  me.    a  soft,    heatless  breath  exits  my  lips  &&  passes  over  fingers  clenched  tightly  held  to  my  chin.