#resplendnt

❝ there you are. i was getting worried. ❞

@resplendnt || Joey & Frank || prompted.

" Worried? "

Frank sounds amused, light-hearted despite the way he's panting behind his mask. He stands up tall, however, a haphazardly stuffed and quickly zipped up backpack held in his left hand. It's been packed to bulging, boxes and bags and whatever else Frank could stash into it pressing against the seams in an attempt to spill out, ruining all his hard work of breaking-and-entering, theft, and resisting arrest. Places were getting wise to their antics, but where many would see an issue... Frank just saw it as an opportunity. An opportunity to get the Legion known. People would remember them. Know of them. Fear them. Frank would make sure of it.

" It'd take more than a shitty alarm and some overpaid pig to catch me, man. I was on the basketball team, remember? " He could outrun some dumbass cop, no problem. Especially when he had the Legion's reputation on the line. Frank takes a moment to crouch then, sliding the backpack in front of him and unzipping it to show off their stolen goods.

He takes a pause then. Mask upturns to look up at Joey. He told the guy to run, told him where to go if things went south. Frank would be the distraction if something came up.

When Leon was tossed into the Fog he quickly found out that the types of monsters that became his norm didn't necessarily follow through into this place, and that creatures and people of all sorts ended up here. The Trapper had no viral infection to make him the way he was. He just was, which made things a lot more complicated.

And so when this... Thing approaches, he's caught off guard by its odd anatomy, but also captivated by it in a way he doesn't understand at first. The blackened... Skin? Exoskeleton? Wasn't so dissimilar to his own, and their tails had a striking resemblance to one another. The way it hissed went about itself also struck a cord with him, and his mind slipped back into a more Plagas driven mental state.

This time, he wasn't caught off guard by the collar around his throat. He had watched Ada walk up to him with it in hand, a pretty red collar that matched her dress just for him, and with a leash too. His face darkened, not with a red, but a weird sort of shady grey against his pale skin. The implication being a change to even the color of his blood with Las Plagas.

"Oh, Leon." Her voice is soft as she reaches her hands out, gently cupping his face as her eyes search his, as if to look for any humanity that could possibly still be there. "What have they done to you?"

This Fog, this hellscape, contained monsters he was all too familiar with. People and beasts he knew deserved their spot in Hell, which only worked to sadden himself considering he stood with them on the same side. Caught up in his grief and loneliness over this new painful existence, he didn't even stop to think he'd find some faces who didn't deserve this treatment. The survivors he didn't take much effort to learn the names of, figuring it would make everything easier.

But when he spotted that red dress his heart sank to the bottom of his despair, because she's here, too. In Hell together. They lock eyes before Leon has the chance to just flee, to save himself the embarrassment of being seen like this and to save Ada the trouble of laying her eyes up on this wretched form. But here they are, out of a trial, and in an open space together.

His heart races and he stands frozen in place, watching as the mercenary slowly makes her way towards him and he waits for the shoe to drop, the gun to be pulled, the horrified scream, the mockery. That Leon should've just listened. That if he didn't poke his head into business that wasn't his then he could've ended up differently and the world would be saved--

There's been enough interaction with strangers for Leon to deal with for the rest of time, and another one is just another straw piling onto the camel's back. But this person... Feels different. The tail is definitely a dead giveaway that this isn't another survivor, and Leon stands his ground as his tail almost rattles in warning.

He's more lucid out of trials, no need to let his mind slip back as Plagas takes over and puppets him around. If he's not awake, he can't remember what happened, and the guilt lessens as a result. But this... The eyes on his body seem to squint and his head tilts. A connection is attempting to be made telepathically, an assumption made that this other person may also be connected to Plagas.

You'd think that letting someone basically live with him part time would be something the Ghostface wouldn't be able to tolerate, sharing a space he keeps to himself with a near stranger being a bit too much for this solitary serial killer. But... Leon isn't so bad. He cleans even when Danny insists everything is fine, cooks even though Danny insists he doesn't have to, and they get to have quiet moments like this. The only sound between them is the soft purring of his cat, Mothball, and the gentle flip of pages and the Ghostface partakes in some quiet reading.

The book is coverless and without a name, perhaps a journal he's looking over when out of the corner of his eye he catches Leon getting a little fidgety. No words are spoken as he waits for the other to get up the courage to speak his mind, and when he does Danny can't help the soft smirk on his lips. It's... Fuck, it's cute. It's cute, how he catches Leon staring when he decides the mask isn't worth keeping on around the house anymore. It's cute how often the other stutters through requests and makes his feelings so obvious without saying a thing.

The book is closed and set aside, and Danny turns so his attention falls onto Leon completely.