#throughfires

           Jackson is different to Seattle -- it’s more communal than she’d have imagined, and while there are shifts which start at the crack of dawn and people shouldering twice their weight to keep it all together, the boot-polishing and the bed-making feels a little more relaxed. Abby keeps her distance, keeps glove-clad fingers tight down at her sides and the knot in her neck still aching each time she turns it, but she’s here. (She can almost taste it. Sleepless nights of staring at the ceiling, or running into the dark because this place is so fucking... fenced-in that there’s been pretty much no risk of Infected ever since she first arrived... it’s almost over. Joel is there. He’s fucking right there.)

She has to bide time. She has to stare at the gun on the makeshift side table she’d been put up with, and shimmy in and out of the sleeping bag she’d been given when she got there. (Running into Joel was a fucking karmic moment. Heading back with him because Owen and the rest of them balked in the face of the dozens of lights blaring out from the closed-in compound was like a stone stuck in the pit of her stomach. It’s about preparation at this point.)

@throughfires​ said : “ not sure if you could tell, but I’m not exactly a people person. ” (yasha to jester)

❝   well , no -   ❞   jester lips draw into a thin like as her nose scrunches up , looking guilty despite the fact that she hasn’t done anything . she wishes she knew what to say , in moments like these . that she could make yasha feel the way that everyone else can just make her feel when she needs reassurance . she only knows what’s in her heart . so , she lays a soft hand on top of yasha’s as she sighs .  ❝   but you know , not everyone is a people person , yasha . i kind of think that the people who take the time to get to know you despite whatever first impressions they may have are all of the people you need . sometimes , people look at you & they think you’re like super scary & powerful - which you are super powerful - but they don’t know you know you . not like we do - we know that you’re smart & you’re kind & you’re healing & you’re funny & anyone who doesn’t get to see that part of you or doesn’t want to because they’re dicks ? it’s their loss , honestly . you’re the best !   ❞

it’s  also  a  massive  pain  to  climb.  she’s  always  down  for  adventure.  usually  the  first  one,  but  the  more  they  clear  out  the  titan’s  innards,  the  less  appealing  it  becomes  every  trip  ascending  the  legs  &  the  torso.  more  than  a  few  denizens  still  lingered  within,  scuttling  about  even  after  the  whispered  one’s  defeat.  still,  it’s  something  to  do.  pike  doesn’t  complain  about  the  steady  work  &  the  distractions  it  offers.

❛   how’re  you  holding  up  there,  scanlan  ?   ❜  pike  asks,  slamming  her  mace  down  &   resting  her  weight  against  it,  surveying  the  resting  station.  no  one  seems  to  have  sustained  any  major  injuries  that  needs  her  attention.  with  a  city  full  of  hunters  &  clerics,  they’re  making  quick  work  of  it.  every  day  she’s  faced  with  the  knowledge  that  she  knows  the  people  here  because  she’s  been  here  all  this  time.  it’s  interesting,  vasselheim.  she  doesn’t  know  if  she  likes  the  city  per  se,  but  she  likes  it  a  great  deal  more  than  whitestone.  though,  she’d  never  admit  that  out  loud.  ❛   i  was  thinking——we  should  keep  it,  y’know  ?  the  titan.  ❜

they’re worried. yasha can see it plainly on jester’s face, for all the cleric is trying not to show it. having any one of them down is dangerous enough, without the worrying and fretting that comes with something like this. she’s trying not to do the worrying and fretting thing, but it’s hard. it’s beau who’s down. it’s not something she’s used to seeing. not like this. 

“no,” she says, somewhat regretfully. there is not much she can do here. not really something any of them can do. the rage from the fight has worn off, the person who’d hit beau with this is dead - finished off by fjord, as much as yasha had been itching to bash their head into the dirt. “i, ah, just have my face. and the rest of me.” a slight furrow in her brow after that ridiculous statement. 

she’s still standing, towering over beau. she looks around for a minute before pulling over a chair and sitting. “i think we’re all worried. it’s not a short amount of time.” she is. worried, that is. also wants to go back and kick that spellcaster in the ribs a few times for good measure. she’s quiet for a moment as she watches beau. no, there’s nothing she can really do, but -

            She takes a deep breath, looking up at Yasha’s bright eyes as she swallows the words she wants to say. I don’t want to either. You don’t have to. Let’s find a better world. “You… you have to, if they find out…” Zuala settles for instead, nodding softly after making sure nobody’s looking and taking a step forward closer, hands brushing against hers. She shakes her head and replaces the look in her face with a smile. “I don’t want to think about it. They’ll kill us if that happens, and I won’t lose you. Not like that.” Not without a fight.

@throughfires​​ said : ‘ i don’t want anything. i just want to hang out with you. ’ ( scanlan to pike )

❝  well , scanlan , you are in luck because i gave all of my money away . i don’t really have anything to give you except my time .   ❞   it’s a bad joke & she expects it to sting a lot more than it does . but it doesn’t . despite the absence of the extended trickfoot family , her family is whole . her heart is whole . she’s starting to think it has been for a really long time .   ❝   let’s go get into some trouble .   ❞

“they’re all pretty.” 

she’s not naive. she’s been picking flowers long enough now to know that some of them are considered weeds - that people want to pull them out of the earth or put down poisons. but they’re pretty all the same, aren’t they? the reds and blues and yellows and violets, no matter the name other people have for them. 

there should be something there. a metaphor about perception and reality. she’d rather not make it. walking through a field and picking flowers, it’s solitary, and it’s peaceful, and the thoughts of molly and zuala that follow her are the softer ones. the shape of a smile. a flash of bright red or soft brown reflected in petals and earth.