Nudges a box in your direction. Go on, take the last slice.

★— Staring at the box with wide eyes -- it looked so EMPTY, and that slice -- sitting alone -- looked lonely... At that moment, the Captain heard his stomach growl ever so loudly. He hadn’t seen pizza in a month, yet alone even thought of eating it. 

     it was the smallest things that betrayed her; the little taps of her fingers against her mug, the way her eyes shied from his. she loathed her own transparency, especicially to those who knew her best, and how their nature denied them from letting it rest. whereas she’d rather lick her own wounds in peace, they would see them soothed and taken care of. they were like a family.

                                                             … ‘family’– that word tasted of bile.

          ❝… it’s my fault.❞ was all she said, voice trembling.

                                     maybe she should’ve said more, but the words wouldn’t come.

★— ECHOES OF PAIN -- a chorus lacing through every word, every FEW words she uttered. Steve couldn’t help but worry more and more with each passing word -- or in this case, lack thereof words. The void in the air caused him to lean forward a little, urging her to meet with his azures. He removed his guise -- those thick frames that covered him poorly. 

 “Well, since the city is still in ruins, and I need to still make a profit to buy more ingredients, its one of the few things I could do.” He didn’t exactly have super human strength or anything and he’s machine still busted, sorta. 

 “By the way, is that cosplay?”

“What’s the word for when someone is your friend but also your nemesis?”

Oh wow, that attracted more attention than he needed. 

  “Well its the bar behind me. Better hurry, its only for today the sale is happening.”

 “Enjoy yourself at Gin bar.”

@pctriot

 “We have a promo of all croquettes , prices  cut to 50%. Get your croquettes today.”

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHH.“

This, right here, is why Sanzo doesn’t usually bother. 

He rolls his eyes and makes no move to take the cigarette. “Don’t smoke it then.” He says dismissively. “Burn it, throw it out, keep it, give it to someone else. I don’t care. I wouldn’t be handing out shit to strangers if I was worried about my resources.” He’s on the verge of leaving it like that, but what the hell, he’s come this far. Besides, annoyingly enough, the words of the monk who handed him his first pack of cigarettes have been brought to the surface. And well… .

“It’s only just a cigarette if that’s the only meaning you give it,” he informs the other. It’s something too few people think about. How limited their meanings are, how much they limit things, others, or themselves. “It’s a wish, or a prayer. If you want it to be.” He shrugs. “Or it’s just a goddamn cigarette.” Hell if he knows. Hell if he can tell the guy what it should be to him.

Sanzo walks away again, tossing one last option over his shoulder, “Or it could be your karma.”

(Though the guy doesn’t look the type to have black karma choking his lungs.)

Hell. If these damn cancer sticks did shit for his frown lines, he’d tell the other to smoke it for that. 

★— It was a thoughtful gesture in hindsight, even though it seemed at that point in time the other man seemed to be extremely keen to walk away from Steve, even after giving him something. He truly hadn’t given it much thought beyond that until the other man said -- it was a gift, after all, and he shouldn’t have been looking a gift horse in the mouth, particularly when there were few people that would actually associate with him, yet alone talk and GIVE him something. 

              He gazed at the stick in his hand, absorbing everything that was said to him before tilting his head curiously-- 

“It was pretty fun! The world I’m from doesn’t share many if any holidays the majority of the people here have. It’s quite enjoyable to see so many new cultures.” She pulled out a bottle of tea and took a gulp. “Oh! And I may be ready to move onto a full rank Avenger. Met a man who recreated my weapon for me and found a shop that sells Dust.”

★— ❛ Oh really now?❜ As interested as Steve was about where she had come from, and the cultural differences that they may have had -- the moment she had mentioned that she was interested in becoming a fully fledged avenger his attention was HOOKED. 

“I’ve made some mistakes in my past, full of regrets, hell ve all have. But now I’m villing to fix it. Someway. Somehow.“

Even Sanzo finds that statement a bit sad.

Wordlessly, he hands the guy one of his cigarettes then walks off.

★— Just as Steve had spoken -- a man stepped up to him, handed him a smoke and then walked away. With a brow arched, looking at the cigarette then back up at the man. There was once upon a time that smoking was said to cure cancer -- ironically -- in WW2, which is why even the star spangled man used to smoke, but from a pipe, mostly. But nowadays he’d stayed away from it-- jogging up to the man to try and catch him up,  

“Well, it may not mean much, but happy birthday.” Weiss absently punched his shoulder. 

     as grateful as she was for the familiarity, the comfort it offered fell short of her burdened thoughts. Lagos was still so fresh, heavy on her shoulders, and her attempts to veil it weren’t as smooth as she would have liked. for someone who practiced wielding emotions like the weapon she could make of them, she wasn’t so good at hiding hers.

          ❝the height of fashion.❞ she replied with a raise of her brows, sarcasm lilting her tone, before taking a tempered sip of her coffee.

     she was restless under his gaze, like a child facing up to the consequences of their mistakes, absently drumming her fingers against the side of her cup. the words struggled to come to her, so she was forced to improvise.

          ❝… you don’t need to.❞ he already knew the answer– he was just trying to be kind. 

★— UNYIELDING were the blues that settled upon her. Compassion was his forte, but in this instance he could see something was TROUBLING her deeply -- a deep seed of sadness that blossomed into an expression cast down, avoiding eye contact. 

                    RESILIENT as he was -- he pushed forward, with deep consideration. Steve knew that things had always been tough for Wanda, no matter what universe -- this couldn’t have made things any easier. Being HERE. Being alone. --That was something he knew all too well, given that everyone he had clicked with had separated from him. Steve was very much a lone wolf in this city, but it was something he could grow and adapt to. 

★— RUNNING -- it was something he wasn’t particularly USED to, considering he was the man that said that he would NEVER run away from a fight. Yet, since he had gotten to this segment of the city -- a place he had never ventured into -- consumed by greenery, a vast contrast to the concrete jungle of Sector 5 that he had called home for the last two years -- he had done nothing BUT run. 

                But after having been CHASED by these -- THINGS -- seemingly ghostly beings that he couldn’t go fist to fist with; word on the wind was that if you hit them, SOMETHING happened to you. What exactly? He was uncertain at this point. 

                He’d managed to find shelter -- a quick reprieve where he could catch his breath, though it seemed as though he was beaten to the punch.