rencgacle

[rencgacle]

❛ Who’s blood is that? Is that your blood? ❜

? SENTENCE STARTERS  |  @ashhes.

    even in the dark fabric of his shirt, the blood spatter is easy to make out – or, easy to gather. his hands are more red than anything else, and the substance is against his neck, making out a smeared hand print. any moral man would be horrified, or he thinks they would, and so when he speaks, it comes out aghast.  ❝  listen,  ❞  anthony lifts his arms, holds them out from his body – not up in surrender, but to the sides, as though to say i’m leaving my vulnerable organs open, you can trust me. offering himself to death is the only way he knows how to show submission, apparently. if only she took advantage and cut him open, she’d see how corrupt he was. he’s swallowed something dark, it’s planted it’s roots in him. all it does now is grow, and grow, and anthony NURTURES it.  ❝  i did what i had to do.  ❞  it was him or the man, though the threat was never coming from the stranger himself. LOYALTY, he was asked to prove it – he did. he has. he’d use her to do it. one beat to get into reach, another to reach for her throat. 

    if it fit the bill, he would. now though, with arms spread wide and a pitiful croak of his voice, anthony shoves the urge down.  ❝  don’t look at me like that.  ❞  he hadn’t said it to his mother then, but he thought to – don’t, not with such care. people like them shouldn’t receive such a thing just as much as they shouldn’t give it. it’s always a trick, a trap, a curse. he takes a moment, makes a quiet wish for her to drop it, then makes a slow move to pick his sack  off the ground.  ❝  you would have done the same.  ❞  she would, anyone would. he’s convinced you’re not human if you don’t put your own life over another’s. 

[rencgacle]

❛ i noticed a banner out front that said something about an anniversary. ❜

   SILENT HILL  |   @lcudation.

      as a precaution, anthony hasn’t wrote in a long while ; police work has evolved too far. every pen stroke is a clue, everything you touched would bring them one step closer. even as the world ended and the law became moot, he still hadn’t fallen back to normalcy. when he walks through buildings, he doesn’t run his hand over anything, his hands stay planted in the pockets of his jacket. he never leaves a thing behind. he burns clothes when he’s done with them. OLD HABITS he had never wanted to break until meeting her. she‘s a symbol of hope, change, a person he’s entirely devoted to. most people now, they want their ordinary lives back, or something resembling it. or, he thinks they do, anyway – understanding others was never a strong suit.  

      and she’s right, of course. the only way to miss it would be if she were blind; a large white sheet, ❛  HAPPY ANNIVERSARY ❜ printed on it in black marker – crayola because it was all he found in the drawers of the home. there’s a dull brown stain in one of the corners, and he accounts it to the body that had been laying on the floor nearby  (  cleaned up now; there’s nothing romantic about a CORPSE  ). he nods through her speaking and when she’s done, offers a smile – it’s telling; he’s nervous.   ❝  figured that’s what people do.  ❞    anthony has never experienced it himself, he knows there’s a chance that he swung and missed. he’s not trying to force oona into moving on, but he ushers her further into the home with a hand on the small of her back. 

     ❝  AND,  ❞   he halts when they’re in front of the kitchen’s doorway.     ❝  i found nice chair pads.  ❞    he gestures to the teal cushions, though instead of looking at them himself, he watches her. anthony is trying to gauge a reaction, that much is obvious.  ❝  just thought they might make coming over to eat nicer, you know?  ❞  he holds the   ❛ can’t you see i’m trying?  ❜  back.    ❝  or, just, whatever you want to do in here.  ❞    it’s weird enough to him that anyone would do anything else at the dinner table, but he offers it up anyway. HE MEANS IT; whatever she wants, he’s not bothered. he won’t feel the irritation he did at people who talked too loud in bars, or at motel managers who insisted he missed check-in by a minute. she’s perfect however she chooses to be.

[rencgacle]

❛ you burned in the fire that you started. ❜ luz ( future eye patch Luz au ! Or whatever you feel )

    SILENT HILL  |  @rebcund.

     he has no secrets; he’s killed many men in his life – the only reason SANTIAGO is memorable is because the woman who accompanied him won’t let it go. it was years ago, wasn’t it? that he slit the man’s throat and took her eye. regret colors the memory, he should have killed her back then. it’s people like her that keep him distant from his family  (   not oona shutting him out, not the blood on his hands  ). she catches up with him, and instead of ending it, she preaches? tries to tell him who he was and who he became? he laughs, his body shakes and he doesn’t care that her blade against his throat moves in perilous ways when it does. it’s a joke that anyone demands him to be anything. burnt –  ? he’s a hero. every single debt of his, paid. his life devoted to a woman purer than he is. a child, his own, fed by his hand. 

      so what if long nights apart from them were spent with a STRUNG UP stranger in the next room? so what if he beat them black & blue & unrecognizable. if he only took the blindfold off so they could see their family slaughter? SO FUCKING WHAT.  means to an end, means to happiness. none of them deserved to live, none of them were kind enough to share their wealth. impure, unworthy, monsters. luz is trying to make him feel like one of them. he’s not; it’s her. he observes her tight features, her knuckles turning white around the handle of her blade.  f e r a l, comes to mind. untamed, out of control, ready to bare down on his family further if his blood doesn’t spill here & now. he promised safety, comfort, survival. 

     A GODDAMNED HERO; feet firmly planted, shoulders squared.

                                                                                               ❝  YOU, TOO.  ❞

[rencgacle]

     (  huan, teagan, anthony, jesse, brooke, kohaku. )

- ̗̀  silent hill starter sentences  //  vol.1  ̖́-

❛ the fear of the blood tends to create fear for the flesh. ❜ 

❛ when you’re hurt and scared for so long, the fear and pain turn to hate. ❜

❛ she’s lucky to have you. ❜

❛ a mother is god in the eyes of a child. ❜

❛ you’ve darkened the heart of an innocent. ❜

❛ you promised you’d take me there again some day. ❜

❛ well, i’m alone there now, in our special place… waiting for you. ❜

❛ you disgusting piece of shit! ❜

❛ you’re nothing but a waste of skin! ❜

❛ it doesn’t matter if you’re smart, dumb, ugly, pretty… it’s all the same once you’re dead… ❜

❛ do you know what it does to you? ❜

❛ the memory of his cruelty is forever burned into my mind. ❜

❛ you don’t understand. none of you do. ❜

❛ monsters? ❜

❛ they look like monsters to you? ❜

❛ that’s when i first had the nightmare. ❜

❛ i haven’t been able to get out of my room since then. ❜

❛ i can’t even get anybody to hear me when I yell. ❜

❛ the phone doesn’t work… the tv doesn’t work… ❜

❛ the windows are sealed shut. ❜

❛ someone chained the door from the inside. ❜

❛ how am i going to get out of here? ❜

❛ you’ve always been there for me, haven’t you? ❜

❛ bad dreams still keeping you awake? ❜

❛ i told you, a girl or two would go a long way. sleep like a baby with a chick in your cab. ❜

❛ guess i just don’t meet the right girls. ❜

❛ be careful what you choose. ❜

❛ hey, chill. you don’t see me bringing up your issues. ❜

❛ she hasn’t left you yet? ❜

❛ all the stores are closed or boarded up. ❜

❛ the town seems empty. ❜

❛ it’s complicated. ❜

❛ a lot of things have happened since you left. ❜

❛ i noticed a banner out front that said something about an anniversary. ❜

❛ i thought i remembered being here for it. ❜

❛ i guess it’s time we took that down, huh? ❜

❛ it’s like something’s not letting us move on. ❜

❛ we’re the ones who decide if we can live with what we’ve done. ❜

❛ why didn’t she take me? ❜

❛ evil wakes in vengeance. be careful what you choose. ❜

❛ fire doesn’t cleanse, it blackens! ❜

❛ look at this map, memorize it. ❜

❛ your memory may save your life. ❜

❛ let me do this! ❜

❛ i have to do this! ❜

❛ you burned in the fire that you started. ❜

❛ nothing can save you because you’re already damned! ❜

❛ i don’t talk to strangers. ❜

❛ what the fuck? what the fuck?! you saw that right? that was real? ❜

❛ what the fuck is going on? ❜

❛ i’m afraid she’s been hurt. ❜

❛ they used to say this place was haunted. ❜

❛ what’s it gonna be, city boy? ❜

❛ i can put you in jail or you can go home. ❜

❛ that’s your definition of justice, huh? ❜

❛ filth and lies! ❜

❛ she’s not here! ❜

❛ can you see anything? ❜

❛ we have to leave! ❜

❛ we are wandering far from refuge here… ❜

[rencgacle]

perscverance:

Being the leader of the Cheyenne Country Club was a job with responsibilities. Of course, being a Recon team leader had it’s own share of responsibilities, but not like being in control of a camp such as this. Coordinating the work of everyone with jobs, making sure nothing would run out too quickly, foreseeing threats before they became dangerous, creating the rules of a new society. It kind of made him wish he hadn’t dismissed the logistics pogs of the Army and learned more from them, as they were probably better suited to job like this. But he was here, and wasn’t the saying ‘the buck stops here’?

So here he was, doing the work he never thought he would have to do. He was on the north side of the property, looking at the fence that was assembled by the radio hosts ( as he heard from someone within the camp ). Red was perched on top of it, humming some song that had played constantly on the radio the year before the outbreak, looking down at a legless rotter following Nate’s movements from the other side of the fence. He studied the fence carefully, noting how at some places it bent inward and looked rusted. It was when he turned around to call out to Red that he noticed one of the camp members walking towards him. He gave a nod in their direction before considering the fence again.

“Should we reinforce this section?”

      anthony knows something about being caged -- he knows he dislikes it. he doesn’t stay at camp long, leaving soon after he’s dropped everything off that was requested or needed. he hardly knows his camp mates past  ‘i’m heading out, anything i should grab’. there are friendly conversations here and there, face value at best. it’s not odd now for people to not talk about their past, and so he doesn’t suppose dancing around it makes him weird. leaders though, they’re tricky. anthony understands them to think they’re on a need to know everything basis. is nate like that? it’s safer for him to assume so rather than not. 

      days are beginning to drag on. with more daylight, he’s seen less frequently; more light, more time, more supplies to haul back. a simple explanation, really. soon, weeks will go by before he reappears. this three day trip, however, is reasonable enough even knowing the seasons; hordes made travel difficult enough that waiting out was the better option. checking daily seemed smart, it’d get him out as soon as possible. for the most part, he’s made trips out of the camp without communication. fine by him, fine by everyone else -- they haven’t complained anyway. today, he’s dragged into a conversation. nonchalance finds him: his shoulders drop, he tries his best to look pleased despite feeling inconvenienced.

       ❝  sure,  ❞   he shrugs.   ❝   i don’t see why not. ❞  where he would have preferred to leave it there, he decides reasoning for another side is the right path.   ❝  think it’d be less taxing on us all if you just put people on watch here -- it’s your camp though,  so.  ❞   tore down and built back up or under watchful eyes? both are fine, neither affect his lifestyle. he doesn’t care enough to feel passionately about the condition of their walls. 

[rencgacle]

warringviktoryia

           viktoryia stared at the pages of her book, blinking back uncharacteristic tears as she did so.   it reminded her of last year, huddled up with clay and eloise, their handwritten birthday cards and scavenged gifts meaning more than anything to her.   and now, unfortunately, her birthday had passed unnoticed even to her.     she was twenty-seven now, but it hardly seemed to matter.      unbidden - her twin sprung to the forefront of her mind,  ivanna - was she alive? was she somewhere back in the ukraine celebrating, or was she, too, dead?   her heart felt so HEAVY that she almost didn’t hear the words he spoke.

          “i’m sorry?    oh -  no, i was just counting days.”    her heavily accented speech often called for immaculate sentence structure.   “my birthday was yesterday, if i’ve counted correctly - it is bringing up some nostalgic, if slightly painful memories.”

          things have been expected of him his entire life, this seems like one of them.   ❝  happy belated birthday then, stranger.  ❞  anthony had never bothered tracking the days in prison; life is life, it doesn’t matter how long it’s been. their life is this now, and so there’s still no point. his experience with presents is limited  --  the gift to him was always the promise of his family’s company, and from people he had only ever met in passing, it was consolation gifts, given as though they would bring his father back or soothe the pain. they never did. material items don’t matter.   ❝  i don’t have anything to give you, but if you want to . . . hang, i’ve got the time.  ❞    

[rencgacle]

warringviktoryia

             “that CAN’T be right…” she murmured to herself, muttering as she flipped through a beaten up book of notes she kept in her room in the medical centre.  perched on the lowest bough of a tree offsite, she frowned.    the scrawled writing in cyrillic script was her own, and it made sense, but… “i must have counted wrong…”    but her face fell into a mask of almost sadness as she landed her finger on the cross that represented the previous day.

     ( the first birthday she’d spent alone since eloise and clay had passed. )

              “… it was my birthday yesterday.”           

            there wasn’t much to celebrate in his life; visits to his mom in prison, at the very least the fact she allowed him to see her even after he had snitched. though the visits were dull, even on dates meant to be exciting. he stopped visiting after his fifteenth birthday. her stories were getting routine, less bouts of violence within the walls and more of settling. it was never his job to keep an eye on her, but he felt comforted knowing she had accepted her new life. begging his aunt for rides was no longer worth the tales. he debates on whether the trip out this way was worth it either. it’s certainly . . . odd, to see a woman in a tree. 

             ❝  am i interrupting?  ❞  intrigue as well as confusion colors his tone. 

[rencgacle]

CLOSED STARTER  |  @tcintedbeauty​

    ikelos does not hesitate to sit in the company of his sister -- she is as much the god, mortal, BEING that his brothers are, and there is not a soul that refuses the fact she does not need his protection. he doesn’t offer it. he gives her solace; a quiet place does not have to be lonely, does not have to be tainted with tense air. but he feels it now? it’s different than before, when they had days to waste.   ❝  hesperia,  ❞  he begins, turning to face her as he does.   ❝  have you eaten?  ❞  how often do mortals feast? he has not witnessed it, only coming out long after the dinner bells rang.

[rencgacle]

“ believe only half of what you see and nothing that you hear ”

    CLASSIC  🔥  |  @indiifferent.

     his mouth pulls into a smile. it’s a strange notion without sharp teeth to bare. he regards her as respectfully as he can, of course –  she is a woman, and above that, one capable of of bringing the strongest men to a halt, the reason he is able to do even half that.   ❝  i see you have been turned onto my being as a DREADFUL GOSSIP,  ❞  it does not hold entirely true, the idea that he’s one to air other’s laundry, though it is not false either. in younger days, he would boast of how men trembled before him. those days aside, he has hardly spoke ill of a soul to another; even zeus’ rage has not made him kneel to that level. there are more important things; there is the mortal woman, there is nyx, there are his brothers. older and wise, ikelos knows these to be fundamentals, reasons to why he should live agreeably. you do not pick a war when there is something to be lost.  ❝  truly though, i do not think it warrants a lecture – you are aware that i am a grown man, no?  ❞

[rencgacle]

indiifferent

           “ the night will come, “ of that she is sure. zeus would not RISK her wrath, for nyx would drag him down to tartarus if her touched her blessed night. no, he wouldn’t dare. “ but i would sit with you regardless… even in the day, when the stars are HIDDEN and the sky is blue. “ she feels ill. an ache in her MORTAL BONES. it is the sun, no doubt. but nyx will not move, will not seek shelter, she will not hide. she is the DAUGHTER OF CHAOS, her brothers and her sister stood by her side at the beginning of it all. this ? this is NOTHING but a mere inconvenience. 

         coming from her mouth, the certainty of night falling becomes a great deal sounder.  ❝  and i with you,  ❞  it matters not to him if olympus falls. he has never resided in their graces, has hardly been accepted with open arms by most. perhaps the crueler of his brothers in past acts, it is only fair. he was born to the night, the dreams. his bones are sharp things, not shattered but created as such, and his teeth are a glistening warning in the darkness. he is proud. under her nights, he has been introduced to a lovely being, given the chance to be in the company of someone that is not his own kin. were the skies falling, and if nyx willed it, he would hold fast at her side. love doses not make him a fool so much as a warrior.   ❝  though i would not wish such a torture upon you.  ❞  as to not misstep, he keeps his posture still, grateful for the cloth covering his flesh. ikelos only dares to watch her for a pain that threatens her being. 

[rencgacle]

indiifferent

                                                   “ your concern is unnecessary, “ her words come exasperated, though the hint of a smile disregards any cruelty her tone might imply, and she softens. “ - though appreciated… i shall quench my thirst and feed my hunger, though i feel most if not all of my CRAVINGS no longer apply - i am incapable of DROWNING this mortal world in the shadows that lull them to sleep. “ her smile slips, falling as she looks down at her hand and turns it over in the sunlight. “ - i feel warmth, here. a warmth i’ve not felt before and i feel ILL when it touches my skin yet, “ nyx sighs. and she blinks up at ikelos. “ - i am well, “ she assures, “ for now… when we are home, i will be great. “

             he cocks his head in much the way a bird was. habits die hard. he listens with his head in this position, showing a keen interest. yes, the light is a lot, and yes, it burns, but it’s hopeful, for most. it is the only time they could escape him. in it’s fundamentals, he understands. he just cannot wish to fit. it was accepted long ago that he could only visit the target of his affection late in the night. the thought that mortal flesh make his goal more accessible, however? it hasn’t fully settled.   ❝ if you would like, we may sit and hope the sky darkens without you. ❞  certainly zeus would not cripple the world so harshly. without time, they would certainly believe it to be the end of days.  

[rencgacle]

indiifferent

             she smiles. a small subtle thing that flashes white teeth framed by dark, red lips. continuing her circle, her two fingertips become four as she murmurs softly. “ it is… different, “ she reasons, her newfound FASCINATION an oddity even to her. but nyx, in her night, would shroud the world in her brother’s darkness, an embrace that she craves even now. “ - bright, “ she describes with a languid blink in to the sun as she continues her path. she has never, in all of creation, touched the sun’s light and she is curious. “ i am… adjusting. “ but she looks up, meeting his gaze with hooded eyes. “ - and you ? “ for she is concerned, truly, and it shows in the furrow of her brow and the cant of her head.

      ❝  bright.  ❞  he repeats this, the word more foreign to his tongue than mind. no, no, he does not see the sun, not often. he is the fears people search for in the night, what they expect. the daytime does not belong to him either.   ❝  you should not stare at it.  ❞  is it wisdom he’s trying to impart? perhaps. speaking isn’t a strong suit of his.   ❝  i am at ease,  ❞  he admits. while not used to flesh where fur or feathers tend to be, he feels inspired. he is MORTAL now, is he not? ikelos is not the icon children are told to blame.   ❝  though slightly parched, if i were to be entirely honest.  ❞  gods do not complain of this, but he knows that after a jarring experience, she tended to reach for water. it seems correct.   ❝  you must remember to eat and drink.  ❞    

[rencgacle]

indiifferent

                    “ temper, temper “ she drawls, more to herself than to anyone but perhaps, in turn, to zeus. a flicker of her eyes rises and she has to look away almost instantly, the sun blinding her. it’s a foreign feeling, to be BATHED in light. it both sickens and delights her. slowly, nyx circles, the tips of her now mortal fingers gliding over every surface in reach. she is distracted, there is NO denying it. the human world, mortality, it is… fascinating. “ - disgusting, “ she corrects herself with the smallest of smiles, her head cocked to the side. nyx, overwhelmed by the LIGHT that she can now stand in unscathed, her daughter’s - lifts her head to find that she is no longer alone. a single brow rises in greeting.

     he has always been a calm, content being, despite mortal allegations of violence. it was never his cup to drink out of, the one covered in blood. he was to drive people into doing it themselves, or to tell them of a future filled with quite the opposite. his mortal flesh & bones do not put him off. his life, spent among them, his nights spent thinking of her. there is no debate as to why the mortals regard him with fear, just the knowledge that he is not all sharp fangs and shrieking.  ❝ are you taking well? ❞  gods though, the majority, share this knowledge with him. he is sane.   ❝ you seem a fan of touch. ❞

[rencgacle]

THE PANTHEON.  027  &  017.

❛  you are the one everyone fears: the monster in the closet, the witch at the stake – the devil, falling.  ❜

basics.

name; ikelos / phobetor. personification of nightmares, appears in dreams in the form of animals and monsters.  faceclaim; michiel huisman

family tree.

son of; nyx. brother of; morpheus, phantasos, thanatos, hypnos, cer, eris, nemisis, hesperia.

lore.

the oneiroi had the ability to appear in the mortal realm in the guise of various animals and could change their physical forms at will in order to interact with mortals in the waking world.  among the gods he was known by his true name, ikelos. phobetor resided in the land of dreams, a part of the underworld.

headcanons.

phobetor? the name struck fear in the hearts of men and women alike, a emotion they passed on to their children. nighttime fears, ones bred in the dark that not even a lovers warmth could chase away. and it’s always the chase, isn’t it? from the skies, the woods, the water. whatever beast it is they feared, he became. 

he runs through the dreams of mortals, through the dreams of gods. it’s a powerful thing, the mind. is he a monster? when that is what they need to see and what may or may not be fulfilled.

in the land of dreams, it is him and his brothers. to them and other gods alike, he is ikelos. 

more often than others, he falls in her dreams. she’s beautiful, striking his heart in a way it has never been touched before. for six nights, he terrorizes her. on the seventh, he succumbs to her grace. enamored, he ignores all other’s. if something true was meant to be portrayed, it was not. they were without warning and he was in love.

zeus is unhappy, isn’t he always? for his selfish actions, he is cast away. fair enough, he supposes. his only yearning to get back spans from wanting to be with HER.

connections.

PHANTASOS; ikelos is mothering in a very subtle sense. it goes for all of his brothers, of course, but there’s a certain worry that strikes him with phantasos tbh like this is the actual Real World everything is real how is his good bro supposed 2 deal w/ that 

HESPERIA; look. . . listen. ... he worries so much it’s a wonder his hair hasn’t already turned gray since becoming a mortal. he just kind of. ... cruises by. .. looks in to make sure she’s alive. he’d punch a man for her i’m p sure

[rencgacle]

girlscry

SOMI  DOESN’T  LEAVE  THE  COUNTRY  club  often , simply  because  she’s  so  terrified  of  the  creatures  that  lurk  the  streets . she  hasn’t  killed  any  of  them  yet … somi  is  a  carer , not  a  killer  and  she  can’t  help  but  feel  that  she  would  be  taking  away  their  chance  of  healing , becoming  a  living  person  again . she  knows  it’s  a  naive  thought , but  that  doesn’t  stop  her  running  from  the  undead  rather  than  using  the  knife  gripped  in  her  hand .

she  stands  on  the  top  of  a  hill , looking  down  at  the  destroyed  city . just  as  she’s  about  to  begin  walking  down  the  grass , a  twig  snapping  behind  her  makes  her  turn , wielding  the  knife  with  terror  in  her  eyes . luckily  it’s  another  survivor  and  somi  let’s  her  arm  drop  to  her  side .

“  oh  my  gosh , you  scared  me !  ”

he’s always been accepting of blame; every awful thing he’s done, he recognizes. acceptance is the first step to recovery -- he learned that late in life, not early when he should of. anthony holds no grudge though, no malice. certainly not at her or at any other members of the camp. they’re surviving as best they can, and he’s aware that a day where come that he’ll have to throw a stick in that. no dread, no desperation to be a better man that that. FACTS don’t change; he owes the raiders, he’s agreed to help them. what kind of GOOD MAN would he be if he went back on his word?

his gun is quickly holstered, having been drawn out of nothing more than habit.   ❝ i didn’t expect to see you up here, ❞  she may very well be the best of them, the one he should feel guilty around. he doesn’t.   ❝ would have been quieter had i known. ❞  he’s never aspired to be intimidating. the raiders have called it a natural trait, and a helpful one at that. anthony doesn’t hesitate to step closer. they’re good, right? same camp, he doesn’t see how there could be a reason for distrust.  ❝  does SABINE know you’re out? ❞

[rencgacle]

What separates the wolf from the sheep is not a matter of good or evil. We all have teeth— but only some of us are willing to use them.

you either bare your fangs or your throat | m.a.w (via dvoyd)

[rencgacle]

lcudation

   it’s not something she needs to be told, oona is well aware of her own talents. still, it doesn’t stop the way she bears her teeth, lips upturned in a grin. she loves every drip of attention, especially from HIM. ❝   yeah, together.   ❞ voice soft & mellow as she reaches for his hand. there’s a moment of hesitancy – one where she looks to him, brows furled: does he think she can’t take care of herself? certainly not. she’s lasted this long. ❝   i wanna come,   ❞ she tells him, half pouting. ❝   i love spending time with you.   ❞ —– and really, she wants to make sure he doesn’t come home with something NEON. 

❝ yeah? ❞  there’s a certain amount of ease in the way he lets her take his hand. a man so against being GENUINE with people, whether from choice, necessity, or both, changed so easily by such a calm woman. but that’s just it though, he figures -- his entire life has been shrouded in chaos; social events, murder, news, discomfort. she’s the missing piece.   ❝ figure we’ll head out when the DUST clears. ❞ but he’ll leave sooner, if she doesn’t ask him to stick around. he has things to do, places to be. they have to eat sometime -- both the two of them and his camp.   ❝ until then, though, ❞ even if looking at her does hurt his neck sometimes, he’d rather that than miss a moment.   ❝  we’ll have plenty of that time you were talking about. ❞