#ronandelgado

This close to the water the air should have been frigid this late into October, yet as her breath condensed and fogged before her, Elistra felt warm as she walked through the crowds of the festival. It was comforting, like a gentle hug, to see the streets lined with people again, reemerging finally after the storm. The town could use a moment of levity and truthfully, so could Elistra.

And of course that moment was destroyed immediately as her eyes fell on a figure she hadn’t seen in quite some time. Isidore’s brother, Ronan, was playing a shooting gallery game, his lower half drenched in the deflated remains of the bottom of a horse costume. Did Isidore have the top half somewhere? She couldn’t imagine either of them putting in that much effort for the occasion.

Elistra made her way over, shoulders tensing, and took the toy rifle from the holster beside the one Ronan was using, slapping down a few of her tickets on the booth for the attendant. She herself was dressed as a knight, with styrofoam pauldrons and shimmering plastic scale mail. At her hip was an equally fake sword that had no sheath but rested precariously in a belt loop. “You look ridiculous,” she said instead of greeting Ronan. Then she fired off a rapid succession of shots. Her eyesight above water was nothing compared to her eyesight in the ocean but she could still hit a bullseye easily, making a mockery of the simple human game. She shot each and everyone one of the ghouls and ghosts right between their eyes then reupholstered the gun.

“What are you doing here, Ronan?” she asked, turning to face him finally.