#sailento

errrrmm. just don't answer ok. thx

@sailento

wandering off on her own is something chris has told her not to do over and over since they moved to the mountains, mostly because the territory is new and they don't know what danger lies ahead - but how are they supposed to find out if they never actively move toward those uncharted spaces? a part of her thinks her darling brother is keeping things from her on purpose, or perhaps in attempt to keep her safe when the weight on his shoulders is already heavy enough as it is... but then again claire's never been one to follow orders.

so she's trekking up the hill one day where the most that happened has been little rose trying to babble a few words, house hidden between thick veils of mist catching claire's attention like a moth to a flame. everything is too quiet, and her only equipment at the moment are a knife, a handgun, and a comm in her ear that she's hoping and praying won't lose signal once she's reached the destination. hands hide deeper in the pocket of her coat when she walks past the gate - one hand steady around the gun and finger on the trigger just because she's used to things suddenly going south; except this time they don't, and for a moment claire wishes she could just go back to kick some zombies instead.

the tombstone in the garden looks old, somewhat decaying just the same as everything claire has come across until that very moment. the few dolls on the concrete floor remind her of those sites where kids die and people from all over come to bring a plush, except that the ones here have something weird about them that claire can't quite figure out. the name on it causes her to let out a sharp breath - claudia. how quaint it is, ghosts from the past chasing her even in the middle of fucking nowhere, europe.

"I know---..."

Better than anyone. He's seen it first hand how much they CARED for humanity as a whole. His younger, more naive self would have tried making excuses for them. Sought out a reason for their actions. Justified why they covered up so many accidents and tragedies. Why they let their own people die when they could have so easily been saved and spared from the dangers. Those days had long since past. Leon saw the world the way it was, the way it always had been. It's driven him to the brinks of simply... giving up. Let them win. They've broken him beyond repair and they would never try to fix him. You survived the horror. You have to live with it. They didn't give a damn about anyone. Only keeping their reputation in check with the public. Because they were THE GOOD GUYS in a world of terror. At the end of the day--- they weren't anything better then the people who weaponized their work of science.

"A...... doll?" Ashley's gaze lingered on the strange little thing. - If she had a word she could use to describe it -- she'd probably say it was 'creepy' Though, in a situation like this - that probably wasn't the brightest idea.

💀      ╰   @sailento​  :        ❛ it’s not stealing if it was mine to begin with. ❜

❛❛       𝖒𝖞   𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖙     .   .   .       ❜❜           grudgingly  .           ❛❛      it    wasn’t   even   yours  to   begin   with        .    .   .        now    i’ll   ask   nicely   once      ;      stop   getting  your    nose   into     my   things        ⅋.             of    course  ,       stop     taking     them      from     me  .      ❜❜  

Ingrid was laing out swathes of silk lace, each very small and sized for an infant or, in this case, a doll. The Lady Beneviento had commissioned some lacework for her dolls’ clothing. The ones she was showing her now were only samples. There were several different designs and patterns in each of them. Lady Beneviento was meant to choose which ones she preferred so Ingrid would have a better idea of what she wanted. The last thing she wanted to do was upset or offend a Lord. Villagers that did that ended up being corpses. And though Lady Beneviento was seen as a more benevolent Lord, she still had plenty of power. 

“And this one is-” Ingrid flinched when her hand touched Lady Beneviento’s as she reached out to touch a lace pattern. She wasn’t used to touch, especially from people outside her small family. Most people gave her a wide berth or looked down on her. She ducked her face as she would for Lady Dimitrescu. Being obedient and submissive had served her well thus far.