#tinheartedly

As relieved as he was to see everyone was fine, unharmed (as far as he could tell) so far. But the reality of the situation was that, as far as he could tell, nobody was particularly happy to see him. Understandable, as he was part of the group that was supposed to arrest him.

Reactions ranged from incredulous and disbelieving to wary. Not that he expected the warmest receptions, but...

It was becoming clear that while he didn’t exactly have enemies here, he didn’t exactly have allies, either. All standing tenuously on the other side of the line that had been drawn. Neutrality had been the status quo. Well, that, and glares from across the kitchen every once in a while, when their paths crossed.

At least, until now. Disbelieving, he approached the general. “James-” Formalities dropped for a moment, shoulders slacking in relief. They didn’t exactly tense, but he pulled himself together as he remember who he was talking to. His friend, but still his general.

Shaping up, he saluted briefly before relaxing again, an easy smile crossing his features. The only tension with his own fate, which he didn’t know how to approach. For now, he would keep things simple.

         She’s been feeling a little... Out of sorts ever since all this Hearts Wake stuff started. At first she thought it was just giddiness over celebrating the holiday with someone for once, but it’s like every emotion is amped up to eleven. And now, with him mere feet away, it’s taking everything in her to not run --- either toward or away. Ruby straightens, brows sloping sharply downward. Reason dictates he’d see Crescent Rose gleaming on her back, stuck in scythe mode, and know that picking a fight was a bad idea. 

         But that might be giving him too much credit, knowing what he did to Oscar. 

         So she settles with one hand clenched into a tight ball against her hip; it’d only take a second to grab her weapon, and even less to make an escape. Not that she had any intention of doing the latter. She can only think of one thing to say, but her tone was uncharacteristically flat; gauging him, scrutinizing him... Scorning him.

               ❛   ... General.   ❜

  Oh no.

  Oh no no no no.

  Desperate hopes in her heart dissipate when she spots the ever familiar figure of Ironwood. Penny feels her shoulders tense entirely and her eyes widen, unsure of whether to flee before she is forced into a confrontation before she’s ready or face her fears.

  Her body doesn’t comply with either demand.

  ( General Ironwood, I can explain, I --

  What could she explain, though? That she made a choice? The right choice? The one that made her run away from Ironwood and Winter and-- )

// Come to the Dennys parking lot in 30 minutes for an ass-kicking

Welcome to scenic Isola Radiale, James!

You will be housed in CONDO 424!

You will retain the use of your aura to shield up to five light blows per day and will receive a toy gun that shoots out a banner and confetti that says “Hard Decisions.” You’ll also be given a Black Queen piece. Pretty nice!

poetry prompts | accepting @tinheartedly​​ said:  ‘ i promise you will not always be this war ’

Brows shoot up in momentary surprise at the general’s words. Not the nature of them, but the nether they popped from. He knew that James’ head was a mess of thoughts and emotion for the moment, so once he digested the words, he realized that by way of comforting him, James was attempting to comfort himself.

In that case, he figured, he could bear the brunt of the wave of emotion those words caused, with no trace of it on his features.

Bonds were such a fickle thing. Bonds can be created with such difficulty - true trust with someone was rarely developed quickly. It took time, it took work, and it could break so easily. Bent to the point of breaking, and never quite what it was. Stronger, weaker, but never the same. War is the cause of broken bonds, sometimes broken bonds are the cause of war.

Either way, the building and breaking of bonds was the domain of the living. Peace was the domain of the living. For him, war was the last thing he knew. As for here? Here would be a place where the others would come and go, bonds would be built, broken, and repaired in Remnant and he would sit here, waiting. Never able to leave. There was no going back, there was no time for there to not be war. Even when it ended for the others, and it would end someday, he would be stuck back there. Their bonds with him shattered, and never a chance to rebuild. He was stuck, and in the face of whatever happened next preserved to memory, for better or worse.

Like James, Clover was a greater good type. Whatever they were doing, however it was being done, it was for the greater good. He wanted sacrifices, in any capacity, to be limited, but that was unrealistic. His entire career had taught him that. Mostly stories from others, his own presence at a Grimm attack increased everyone’s odds for survival as long as he was participating in the battle.

It’s easier to think that way, that everything will be fine so long as you’re fighting for the greater good, when you aren’t one of the sacrifices. Not that he felt differently, not that he regretted his choices. But as stars shone mockingly down on him from his post-life situation he couldn’t help but feel as though he was already being left behind.

“Yeah,”

Noted for you.