reynahendrix

[reynahendrix]

the clamouring sound hitched reyna's breath. her back to the cool wall kept her calm — relieved to hear emery's reaction, " a-are you alright ?" the care had always been there. where reyna couldn't explain, her emotions drove for her in a tender tone. like many, reyna had been taken care of — protected by the common house leader. without emery, reyna would have lost her sanity years ago. walked her feet into the night and allowed those tormenting creatures to shread her apart like dinner meat. "...yeah, im here still." the settlment had a way of opening it's mouth, and reyna would invite herself in to be swallowed in its warm, sharp embrace. the settlement wasn't still. reyna could still hear commontion on the other side. frantic, confusion, someone still smacking some drums. it was hard to tell if there was any safety within the madness that already laid before them. "— stella ? .." the static fizzled while reyna searched faces she'd collected sight of. holding the button down to radio back, "i...i don't know em. i think i saw her sitting on a couch." lost in the commotion of darkness, reyna had excused herself quickly. disturbed by the stillness inside of herself. always expecting the worst to come now ever since she didn't do as the voice said.. to sacrifice. was this a signal ? that it was going to take tonight ?

emery's mind was free of reyna's true horrors. the other was concerned for her family... to have family.. her tongue slid across her bottom lip in the darkness. "i'm sure she'd alright." a promise reyna knew she couldn't keep. emery didn't deserve a bullshit filled response. "i-...i could go out and look for her." looking for stella would be doing good. following her duty of keeping others safe. to fall back in line of her pattern before routine slipped into darkness. reyna so desperately wanted to erase the harm she'd caused. even if people were unaware. reyna's mind may have been quiet from the voice, but it was not silenced to the terror of her actions caused by its control.

''Ow, fuck!'' Her lower leg had collided with the corner of what felt like a coffee table when she tried to feel for a place to sit. A whimper left her lips in pain, mentally cursing this fucking town for toying with them. The power outage was another form of mockery, she was sure. There was no way the settlement had caused the power outage across the entirety of town. Her fingers felt the comfort of a sofa after what felt like an eternity that she sat her ass down on. Gulping, she reached down to feel warmth trickling down her leg. It didn't feel like a wound, rather a cut, if only she could fucking see.

Putting aside the pain she was in, she needed to focus on the world outside. Remain alert for Their mockery, for tapping on the windows, for anything that told her they couldn't get in. The silence was much more eerie. She was still unsure if she was safe or not, so she had to keep quiet. Did she hear that right? Her thoughts were racing, wondering why, wondering about others she had lost to the darkness when they ran out. Her thumb found the button again. ''You're at the settlement still?'' Even though the sound coming from the walkie was nearly deafening to her ears, words laced with emotion were hard to make out. ''Have you...have you seen Stella?'' She could only hope she was safe... wherever she was. ''We got separated...I don't know where she is. I think I'm in one of the town houses,'' but sure she was not.

Pressing the walkie against her forehead in frustration, she needed to think. Think of a strategy, think of what to do. Run back to the settlement with the high chances of running back into danger? She didn't know if the main hall got overrun by Them, or what the settlement people themselves had planned. She was in the dark about it all - literally. ''I understand, Rey...'' there was a pause, in her mind, in her breathing, in her actions as she stared into nothingness, ''...things have happened in this town....things are still happening...fuck, I get it, Rey.''

[reynahendrix]

SILO Rebecca Ferguson as Juliette Nichols

[reynahendrix]

the metal enclosed around her wrist caused a distraction. the way it felt uncomfortable enough to remind her of the pain she'd caused. though, reyna was grateful for one thing — that whatever crawled in the deepest parts of her hadn't been feeding off someone like emmett. even if it wanted his life, reyna knew she hated the thought of it swallowing him whole. she was certain the voice would eat someone like emmett alive. chew him up, and spit him out. his softness was admirable, but softness in arcadia got you killed. "have you been to the clinic?" for the wound. reyna had assumed, but she was unaware of what happened after she fled to another dark route that night. there had been distruction to the town. her lips wouldn't ask how long he'd been in the cinema for. alone. bleeding out. she couldn't bother the air with anything but subtly. anything deeper rattled her emotions. it baffled the woman how emmett could speak such a thing. as if she couldn't feel safe in the space they provided together. "i handle my own." reyna's way of reassurance skirted the reality of her own horror. "the settlement has been generous." even if its not what she knew she had been deserving of. punishment of such doings could be harsh. reyna punished herself, but it still didn't feel like enough. her mind, her hand....they couldn't be so separate. emmett's forgiveness felt abrasive to her chest. an impacting warmth of discomfort that could drop her to the floor... if she'd been standing. reyna sat still. the smell of stew wafted. "i don't know." wasn't her straying from the topic. reyna found it all difficult to encapsulate. "it's something... dark. unforgiving." fingers twiddled. she knew saying such heinous things about it probably brought the voice an eery delight. "something evil, emmett. — does that make you afraid ?"

The truth will set you free. Emmett heard that phrase dozens of times in his life, a repeat offender in the sermons the priests in his town’s church often used. Not until Arcadia did he really appreciate it, either. Truth was vital here, with what They were outside, to be honest with the people that you were with and having no choice but to trust them with your safety, with your life. Emmett and Reyna had lived together in quiet harmony for the last few months, and the truth was that he would have gone absolutely insane if he had no company. It made things a little bit lighter, even if they were both reserved in their own special way. It made their moments together meaningful.

So sharing the building with no one but the cat and the ghosts that surely haunted the halls of it nightly was a tough switch to get used to. If Nika hadn’t stopped by and informed him where Reyna had been spending so much time, Emmett was likely to assume the worst, after so long. Since that day, he’d been trying to piece together memories as best as possible, trying to play it back in his head. Anything before or after the stabbing was hard. He remembered being on the roof and he remembered the pain that radiated through his body at the fall. He didn’t remember getting dragged through the snow, or anything in between. The image of the knife plunging into his chest, no matter how hard he tried, repeated itself a minimum of five times at least every time he thought about that day, the most shocking and traumatic thing Emmett had probably ever encountered in his sheltered life. That’s all he kept going back to. 

There were no memories about what Reyna was up to, just the dark shadow that had loomed over her face. The whispers under her breath, to herself, maybe - because they most certainly weren’t for Emmett. He’d been so scared that she’d actually kill him. Tears came easily that night, something that was typically treated as a purge didn’t do anything but raise his anxiety when dawn broke. “I understand, if you don’t feel safe here,” he said, his voice quiet. He understood, and he didn’t like it, but now that he knew she was alright enough… the thought did make him feel safer. He didn’t want to think like that, but he couldn’t help it. 

“I forgive you,” he mumbled, not looking at her when he said it. Emmett knew it was the right thing to do, but he wasn’t totally convinced he believed the words out of his mouth. “But what was it?” he asked, looking up finally. “What did you see?” And will I see it next?

[reynahendrix]

reyna despised the way her fingers needed to wrap around the railing and grip it with whatever might was left in her worn body. how dependent she had become... needy for help. how helpless she was becoming. reyna's lungs wanted to inhale deeply, but her bruised ribs protested causing her to lean into samara more. "thanks." there was meaning in the blunt word. the guard couldn't process how much she had felt grateful for the hospitality, and care given. everything was too heavy right now. all she wanted to do was lay still. quiet her mind, and the battle that busied inside of her. "d-do you have a glass of water ?" the woman winced as she moved to the couch. laying on her side felt best. "are you still..." a small pause, "afraid?" of me ?

Samara was thankful when Reyna actually took her hand, a connection between them that would make it easier for Sami to coax the other out of the corner she'd shrunk herself into. She didn't tug or pull at the other, just returned the squeeze when it was offered, letting the woman take her time at unravelling herself. "Take your time." Sami had nowhere to be, no pressing appointments. Sure, most days she would make her way to the clinic, keeping busy better than stewing away in solitude, but it wasn't a job that would fire if she were late or skipped a day.

When Reyna found her feet, Sami carefully slipped under the woman's arm, giving her some extra support as they slowly made their way to the door and the eventual stairs. What Sami wouldn't do for a working elevator right now. Though luckily it was only one flight, taken one step at a time, Samara making sure that Reyna used the rail as much as she needed.

Making it to her door, which Samara had left cracked in case a hasty retreat had been required, she nudged it open, guiding Reyna to the couch. "Here. Sit or lay down. Whatever feels better." @reynahendrix

[reynahendrix]

a voice on the other end hadn't been what reyna had expected. it had been desperation for comfort. for help that the woman never asked for. too prideful that she could handle anything on her own. time had been so tiring. reyna was almost surprised whenever her eyes opened in the morning to take in another day of life. some nights she wrapped herself in hope that she wouldn't wake. not another day of this...just take her away. the static crinkled with emery's voice. what had the other woman meant by safe ? what measure of safety did any of them have these days ? "i..." dry mouth caused her words to pause. unsure of what more to say, reyna contemplated not answering. just twist the button off to keep her truth from spilling. keep emery safe. "i'm at the settlement." voice cracked through. reyna had mapped what little she knew of the settlement in her mind. branded it in a time of need. never quite trusting to rely on those around her. she'd learned to survive.

tucked in a small dark room, reyna hooked her guard amulet beside the door in hopes that nothing else had lurked in the dark enclosed around her. "where are you ?" maybe emery hadn't heard the shake in her voice. maybe she hadn't heard the need to tell her what had been going on inside of her. reyna wanted to detour her emotions. afraid that emery would force her punishment for charlie...emmett.. "i've been" tell her. the adoration reyna held towards the other woman caused her voice to once again pause. reyna hadn't let many close to her, not under her surface. "so tired, em."

From the moment the lights had gone out at the settlement after a flicker or two, panic had struck people in one way or another. Emery had kept her calm - but even she could keep her calm to a certain degree. With everything that's happened lately, Emery's mental had been challenged too. Taken a toll for the worse. When the lights didn't come back on, like they usually would after a few seconds, a minute, an hour even - however long the town liked to toy with its residents, it made those who weren't part of the settlement want to return to their homes. Out of underlying fear of what fucked up plan the settlement had in store for the rest of town. Despite the great danger that waited for them outside - lurking in the dark, people had began to run. Run into the complete and utter darkness that laid over town.

Emery had ran too. After people, to keep them safe, to try and guide them back to the common house, after those who were less inclined to defend themselves. But when panic struck, groups could scatter and somehow Emery ended up alone. Ended up by herself, locked herself in an abandoned house in town. In the dark she had tried to feel for an amulet beside the door, failing at it in her state of mind. She didn't know if she'd be safe here, didn't know if anyone had grabbed the amulet, didn't know if it was there or not in the pitch black she was facing.

What was that? Did someone just say her name? Was there someone inside with her? Was she losing her mind or...?

A static noise startled her. It came from the belt around her hip, she realized quickly and reached for the device. Her grip around the walkie talkie was tight, her hand trembled as she brought it up to her ear to make sure she wasn't just hearing things. The voice that came from the other end made her painfully exhale the air she'd kept inside her lungs for too long.

''Reyna?'' Her voice faltered worse than she wanted to let on, she forgot to press the designated button. Her thumb slipped from it once, causing static on the other end before her voice came through. ''Rey? Is that you?'' She wanted to be sure. Needed to be sure she wasn't losing it. That the dark wasn't playing tricks on her. That this goddamn town wasn't messing with her mind. ''Where are you?''

One beat. Two seconds. Three words. ''Are you safe?''

[reynahendrix]

END THREAD.

Juno watched with intrigue - head tilting sideways as Reyna opened her lips for the fungi. Invested in its delivery, would she recoil and spit it out like it burned at her tongue or would she simply drop to the ground before Juno? Either option was acceptable as Juno wasn’t interested in yet another mushroom for their daily omelet. They were much more interested, however, in Reyna all of a sudden. Before there had been no such thing, but the little care for her safety was interesting and inviting. That Juno understood better than they’d care to verbalize. 

The illusion of a smile overtook Juno’s features as delight entered their chest. Eyes fixed onto the women before her - who also seemed to want to prove a point by staring back at them - they waited patiently for a response. A reaction if it came down to it, though Juno wasn’t expecting too much. So far, most all the plants they had found were either hallucinogenics or edible in more ways than one. A few they learned through time functioned as good pain relieve or aided in combatting infections, but the majority were pretty useless. Juno had to keep in mind that they’ve only been doing this two years now, and that while they believed themselves proficient in everything they did, they were still simply learning. 

“You will have to tell me how you fare overtime.” Juno informed, pulling out one of their journals to jot down the experiment they concocted. “If it is poisonous in any way, you’ll feel some pain in your stomach, nausea can be easily assumed, along with vomiting and even diarrhea. Don’t dispel anything, really. Muscle weakness is a mighty one too, so you’d perhaps do well with staying near the clinic. Keep a log of it all. I’m interested.” 

After they finished writing all of the ways the fungi could affect, making a checklist really, Juno ripped the page from their journal and handed it forward, “Do it as you feel it. And if nothing presents itself well… I guess I’ll know. Right?”

[reynahendrix]

END THREAD.

She bookends her murmur with more breath.     And in doing so,   reveals the underlying milky-fog of lack.     The opposite of a dying wife,   who emphasises the final word over another gasp.     And another,   to carve death from rattle.     You breathe,   once,   and you are alive.     Blissful second in the space between the final breath,   and the final heartbeat.     The cavity of memory.     Nothing to salvage but a face.     The clear view of a shuttered woman.     A tow-headed woman,   at the centre,   flail-less.     What’s yours will be mine,   and what’s mine will evaporate like heat in the sand.     Smoke from gunshot.     Life made latent.     Hill falling emptily into another valley.     Bereft.     You know a spooked ram when you see one.     Only,   this time,   someone gnarled this before you.     He blinks and clicks.     Tongue and eyelid,   tickling alike.     You must hurry,   mujer,   to the point you won’t admit.     The you that won’t reflect.     She,   doll-dead.     Living face   /   Dead heart.

‘   Sifting through these is useless then,   no?     There are better questions to ask.   ’     He looks at the back-face of the record she chose.     Smattered with pen-scratches and sticky dust.     The indents of fingerprints long-forgotten.     Energy long-spent.     He cares little for preservation.     They are beyond life now.     There is nothing to remember.     Not even their names.     Pen in hand,   and they couldn’t write their name.     So why ask   ––   why opt to remember?     And she would apply this,   only,   to herself but not to that which she touches.     To the sight she could bestow upon the next whisper of herself.     Like a dying star,   sun-wide and blank,   clenching desperately at its rays.     My remains will live.     Please.     Let them live.     He plucks a different record.     Obscure.     It doesn’t matter.     He reaches back to place upon the shelf behind him.     A levelled stare at her,   somewhere between serious and gentle.     Cradling your dead sheep.     Gaunt meat.     You will cleave because of the despite.     ‘   Like how do you sleep at night?     Although their answer is easy.     They sleep like the dead.   ’

[reynahendrix]

END THREAD.

Despite Shaw’s best attempts, an expletive sputtered from Reyna’s mouth regardless. However practiced their hands were, they would not be able to take control of a body’s instinctive revolt against being put back together—pain, of course, was a condition of healing. How stubborn the body could get when it had been damaged, in itself a warning. Only—Reyna had rarely taken heed of it. The doctor was no stranger to people who’d seen anger as a sort of release. The only way out of hurt was through. Never mind the exit wound, corrections, the aftershocks. Suffering often sought an exit.

They had offered some distraction for it, at least. The matter of birds and their birdsong. In the absence of music, of radio waves cutting through static, there would only be the sounds of nature that would accompany them. The bitter relief that they would never be quite alone in this world: the loneliness of humans punctured by birdsong, bleats of goats, the throaty caws of roosters. Shaw could sense at least that the guard needed some distraction, even as the invitation for conversation was uttered with a rough cadence and through gritted teeth.  Shaw complied, “Are you asking me what are birds like?” They paused briefly in their ministrations, letting their fingers hover through the first shift of the metacarpals. Surveyed to check whether it was now properly in place—no unnatural protrusions of recoil of shifted bone. The pause almost doubled as a warning, the second and third shifts still to come. “I think their evolution is interesting. Their birdsong even more. The way birds hone them for over hundreds of thousands of years, almost like us human’s culture of ritual transmission.” How wasted humanity was that singing was no longer part of our natural repertoire, and instead something that needed to be learned, or taught. That healing had become something feared rather than instinctual. 

“Just the one tree, then.” Shaw brushed over the remaining abrasions over Reyna’s knuckles, the imprints the bark had left. They would not be so crass as to refuse her the next time it would happen—perhaps not today, or tomorrow, but weeks or months later. Time did not carry well here but at least Shaw had come to rely on her visits. They would not hesitate as she came. The doctor’s manner could not be shaken. Hardened in their manner to the same degree as the tenderness of their grip. Preparing for the next metacarpal, Shaw adjusted their hold again and said, “I don’t think an angry doctor would benefit the town very much.” A shift of their gaze, from hand to Reyna’s steel-set eyes, “Would you like me to get angry, Reyna?” It was not quite a question; if it were, it was a hypothetical one. “I could just make this entire process hurt,” a slight smirk now ghosting the corner of their mouth, a wit traded only in passing, “Perhaps that would be an incentive for you not to hurt your hand more, hm?”

[reynahendrix]

END THREAD.

Had Roux kept herself tender enough to have sought kinship in the offerings of others, the likeness reflected in Reyna’s admission would have warmed her with a sense of solace. Better off. She thought, dully, of the transformative chrysalis she had self-made and clawed through in the months following her arrival. The identity she had shed, name and all, unceremoniously and bloodily changing in spirit beyond recognition until only her features resembled an echo of what was. Held with such a different energy, she ensured she would never make the same mistakes again. Trading pencils for knives and commendations for targets; she drew far better now. A decade of practice. “It’s been much better for me,” her affirmation was offered earnest yet thick, spoken at a hush to the walls of the building in the hopes they would fall flat or be absorbed by the brick. Tucked forever into the aged cement like a secret, as most moments beheld at the station were.

Instead of lingering in the proverbial doorway of something more, Roux focused on an easier fragment — the jagged slice which reflected memories clouded by a reverie encased beneath monochrome film and kept commercially clean. Something safe, neutral, and common: vices. Incontestably, alcohol was subject Arcadia paled in comparison to anywhere else, no matter if one was sober or an alcoholic. Homemade brews of a couple experimental weeks would never match years of craftsmanship. “Every time a car crashes in, I check bags before I check pulses,” a lopsided grin accompanied the statement, her luck with the task rarely reaping successful results but built off the same logic: if they’re dead or dying already, they won’t miss a few seconds of attention.

“You would be a bourbon girl,” she quipped, eyeing the ever-present tenseness of Reyna’s posture with a renewed sense of appreciation. "Don't tell me..." Weighted in Reyna's palm, Roux imagined an overlay of a crystalline glass supporting an inch or more of golden liquor, slender fingers cradling the vessel with a grip both possessive and taut. "Neat?" It was the stature of someone who couldn’t — wouldn’t — unwind without a ritualised process to justify the luxury of a moment’s pause. Perhaps, like Roux, in the past Reyna had once also shared in the perils of an internalised sense of cyclical refrain and reward. The side effects of prolonged discipline turning into a habitual process — to withhold pleasure beneath the pinned pressure of shame’s thumb as means of performing better. Roux had already done her time of retrospection and reflection, speculating regretfully over her past self’s useless fretting and measly non-life threatening goals, the husk which denied overconsumption and treated leeways as a dead ends. Most past life memories discoloured by wasted potential been examined to the point of exhaustion on her lonesome, their bittersweet residue no longer rousing much more than indifference. Being a stranger to herself was as much a part of her as any other bone. Basal human wants and needs took precedence now, starving the past and fattening the present for a butchered future. “A clean strain of vodka’s what I’d kill for,” reinforcing her interest in the conversational fringes of their exchange, devoid of any layers and invocations to wonder and wander down over more entrapping pathways, Roux moved restlessly to and fro as she spoke, sporadically pacing from wall to front step with her heels dragging. “This place makes bottom shelf liquor worth a second glance. Like any Grey Goose snobs wouldn’t flip the world for a Smirnoff Ice right now.”

[reynahendrix]

something didn't feel right. the air felt off enough for reyna to leave the liquid untouched. nothing consumed. it was frighting, a silent mind. the quiet had always brought her so much peace, but now it only grew with terror. anticipation for something to create nothing but utter chaos. there was no held trust in her quiet mind. no trust in the way the settlement celebrated in such an absolute hell hole. no. reyna felt like they were in the eye of the storm. "hmm?" the woman had been drifting away from joel's presence for the last handful of minutes now.

a small shake of her head began to reel her back to the shore of reality. "what ?" couldn't be anything but the same chatter in question that vibrated the town about the place. "sex? drugs? it's true." beautiful havoc. something reyna couldn't fit the pieces together of why she found some amount of comfort in the settlement...

✶ 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 ; earlier at the party ✶ 𝐅𝐎𝐑 ; open

Parties were easy to get lost in. If there was one thing that Joel enjoyed more than unraveling in his paintings, it was getting the chance to fuck around with a pretty girl or two. He didn’t tend to linger for longer than a few hours with them, but just enough to enjoy himself, make them happy in some way, and effortlessly depart. No promises of another time, or even seeing each other again. Just live by the moment and enjoy it while it lasted. That was his defining romance, though he had often yearned for more. Granted their… death? upon entering Arcadia, all yearning of finding more became moot. “  How much of the rumors do you think are true?  ” he asked, taking a sip of his - whatever the fuck they put in the container - drink and turning towards his current partner in crime. He couldn’t be caught dead hanging around alone in that house of horrors.

[reynahendrix]

REBECCA FERGUSON doing press at the "Dune: Part Two" (2024) premiere in NYC | February 25, 2024

[reynahendrix]

was it always — destructive....chaotic...horror driven... ? yes. the thought of the last four years being nothing but those descriptive words had been the unsettling truth. personal haunts. haunts of the town. so much loss around those who came and went. arcadia was not a simple form of hell. it was consuming to the most innocent minds. loved to feed off of suffering, and create nothing but pain. yet, still, the people learned to adapt in what little was given. arcadia had only ever been a town of survival. four years had given the mind lots of room to think. "as long as i've been here it's always been that way....feels less suffocating." reyna supposed. though she didn't have any answers as to why everything had been separated to begin with. no answer to why there was a train station with no train. a radio station that didn't of any streaming connection. no answer as to why They walked at night, and ripped the very flesh from bodies. reyna didn't have any answers. she just survived. "it's good to question. — just be cautious." arcadia consumed the most curious. reyna hardly knew the man — surface level gave her the impression that he didn't deserve to be taken by the night or torn from his sanity. some people had deserved it. "i think a lot of people have different beliefs as to why were here. what purpose we have...if there is one. personalities clash. people seperate. sometimes that separation stops people from causing harm to one another."

it'd been the first time reyna had eased a smile. almost allowed herself to laugh. the days hadn't allowed herself to gather enough light for such feelings. most days had been too difficult to keep her eyes open. to deal with the looming ache, and punishment of actions caused by her own hands. — in this moment, reyna almost felt freed from that torment. "a little stench is wafting.." humor lead, the brunette shook her head. there was no smell, but carrying joel's words into something lighter in weight. "vegetative... like onions..." tiredness was defeated by a growing smile to the man who sat on her floor.

“I did noticed quite a few people injured back at the clinic last week.” He commented, thinking perhaps the sheriff’s death had come in a similar manner, if not while in an attempt to save some people. Joel hadn’t gone around too much, had really just glanced over the exterior of most buildings with the exception of the clinic, diner, and gas station, but a large amount of them he heard were damaged during the snowstorm. A storm he’d barely been lucky to have survived. “Is it always this way?” His question came abruptly, stemming from the fear of either he or his brother approaching the same sentence. 

It was hard not to meet her gaze every few moments in a space as confined as this, but Joel had never been one to pull away from gorgeous eyes. His smile soon followed the glances, before he moved onto the next item to fixate to. “Ever wonder what made everyone kind of spread out? I noticed some of the houses out in town were empty, and obviously there’s the settlement and what not - the communal house and all that. Seems a bit odd, that's all. When they could all be working together and all.” A shrug accompanied his running words, and taking notice of her gearing towards the bed, Joel folded into a sitting position on the ground. 

The position itself was comfortable and familiar. Years of him and Dayn sitting between their beds when they shared a room, then later leaning over each other as they played games and solved puzzles together. Their perfect duo who always found better things to do when in each other’s presence than anyone else's. It happened less so in their adult years, but ever so often the moment would come about and he took notice. Then, Joel noted each time that he was the luckiest brother on earth. That no one could claim it like he. Sitting with Reyna now wasn’t at all similar, but a sense of ease pulsed through his aura. 

Joel laughed and brought both his arms up to sniff at his armpits. “Why - do you think I smell?” he asked, attempting to hide his smile, “I swear I showered at least yesterday. Or was it the night before? I can’t quite remember, but it was this week for sure.” He could see just how tired she was by the way she sunk into the mattress. As if the world above her pressed against her. Like magnets repelling magnets. The image itself was beautiful, and made him wish he could pull his notebook out and draw her again. He figured once was enough for one day but ensured to reserve the feel of the moment for later.

[reynahendrix]

Rebecca Ferguson as Juliette in Silo 2x08

[reynahendrix]

it was satisfying enough to witness nika's unwravel from the tight form that gripped arcadia daily. reyna had never tread this far — never close enough to see what pleasure the settlement could reveal. her feet had always been cautious on this ground leaving her unsatisfied from a gift she'd been so unaware of. hips that pushed up to reyna's cupping hand had been pathetic. if reyna knew how easily she could fuck the life out of nika ...to release herself — this moment would have happened long ago. too much time had been spent outside of the settlement walls. clung to duty. clung to isolation. here, now — pressed into the melting snow cold beneath their heated bodies — reyna knew years had been wasted. "you're mine." firm to any further claim. two words that nearly growled out of reyna's throat. words that curled her and the voice together — both filling the greed to have the settlement leader. reyna wasn't feeling like a puppet, not in this moment. perhaps it was her intimate drive that was reeling the voice out of her. to wrap itself around her like a second skin for them both to indulge in this scene. reyna's hand slid out from between them to meet her other hand that traveled upwards. nika would melt with the snow beneath her. there needed to be a change. it was devious, the laughter that erupted from her. how nika sought after a goal to upset the woman. coerce the voice out of her. make her angry. "this is what you want ?" reyna slid from nika's body, standing with damp jeans wet from the winter, and excitement. there was little time before the brunette reached down for nika's hands, bound by the belt. reyna held onto the leather — gripping it tight before she began to pull — dragging nika in the snow like caught wild game. the trail of snow sunk in by the path, reyna stopped in front of a tree. the voice vibrated all around her — and reyna hadn't felt afraid of it. she grunted, reaching down and wrapping her fingers around the woman's throat. her pulse. the way it thumped against reyna's motion had conjured that strength she once used to thrash charlie across the diner with. like a lifeless deer, reyna used the length of the belt to wrap around a naked tree branch. nika's feet just brushing the ground.

Control was a difficult thing to let another person have over you, though people did it every day. They gave control to those that enforced the law, and to politicians who decided those laws. They gave control to those that controlled access to food, to healthcare, to housing, to anything . Here in Helltown people gave up control to those that could give them access to safety, or access to anything that could make them forget where they were, and Nika had both. She took control, and rarely surrendered it. Except here, in these moments of intimacy, the only way she could feel anything was to let another person unravel her. There was always such a thrill in surrendering your body completely, something erotic in being consumed carnally.

With her hands tied, Nika felt the last of her control over Reyna slipping happily away. There was no Nika, and no Reyna, only two animals overcome by desire and the need to make something outside of themselves. She ran her tongue over her lips, licked up the remnants of Reyna's blood, so metallic like a dagger to her mouth. In this violence she wondered if Reyna would kill her, the thought nearly made her cum. Instead her blue eyes met Reyna's, a mirror, two women looking to submit to something otherworldly. She was keenly aware of Reyna's slender fingers grasping her face, the substance intensifying everything to the nth degree.

"I think you'll find I do," she moaned, hips canting up into the hold the woman had on her. She would do whatever allowed Reyna to release herself completely, to let out frustration and guilt and shame and turn that energy into destroying Nika until she could hardly remember herself. It was a difficult request as Nika wanted to grab fistfuls of hair, of flesh, bite down until blood flowed, but she could attempt listening to instructions if only to be more petulant in her disobedience later. "But I'll try." A beat, breathing laboured in the cold air as she fought not to move her hips into Reyna's hand to accelerate pleasure. "Here, right now, I'm yours. Why don't you claim me."

[reynahendrix]

location. ⁺apart.

moments of being alone didn't bring reyna much satisfaction. isolation had no longer been a place for her finger tips to curl in relaxation. sink into solace that couldn't be found in company. where no humming expectation hovered. there was no peace with company. no peace without. reyna was met with fear that identified her as the blade of more hurt to others. these days she didn't know if she feared the sharpness of her own weapon, or if she was beginning to be fond of it. coexist in some odd nature of it all. —nights such as this were more fearful of being alone. tucked into her bed with no intentions of sleep. she knew her mind too well. it had never rested to the silence of the night. no slumber was met easily. eyes scanned the ceiling until images began to form in the cracks. life was so bruised. too damaged to heal. arcadia hadn't offered much route to maneuver, so, reyna thought it was time to settle within herself. this wasn't defeat. this was adapting with that passenger that growled deep inside of her. channel nine. — the walkie talkie clung to her chest as she lay on her back before deciding to sit up. knees moved towards her chest, arms hanging over them. fingers twisted the knob. static crushing the once silenced air. this was a life line. some burst of humanity seeking something that was once a warmer part of her life. reyna wasn't even sure if her lips could part. what could be said ? there was so much space of time to fill — and surely, emery must have heard whispers by now. some judgment would be slapped upon reyna. such destruction, and mess she had caused. the brunette chewed at her bottom lip. nervous to what truth would communicate out of her. "—em...?" hoarse. reyna's eyelids closed heavily before she cleared her throat. "i... —need to tell you something..." 'reyna - you'd tell me if you were losing your mind, wouldn't you?'

@fernsbys . // closed starter.

[reynahendrix]

“What if everything you know to be true, everything you’ve been told by the people you love…was in fact just one big lie?”

Silo (1x06)

[reynahendrix]

another conflict with charlie wasn't a moment reyna could indulge in—but as steps were taken closer towards her—reyna braced herself for another collision. this one wouldn't be kissed with something horrific. not by her own hand. intentions weren't held to hurt the other. reyna never asked for any of this. if her tongue was capable of expressing her defense, she would explain. she saw no use. curled under the ghostly thumb that controlled her. threatened her. how could she possibly explain that ? especially when her actions had been so devious—by her own hands. how could blame be placed on something that lurked within her like smoke, when her physical self had caused the pain..? there was no use anymore. there was just coexisting. trying to rest the beast that hummed. " i can't help you." reyna shook her head. quick to answer. quick to know that a helping hand wasn't in her capability. no good. only harm. there was no warning for what would erupt — and if reyna could save charlie in any way — it was to stay away from her. "what you deserve is not what i can give you." she mumbled now the one to take a cautious step back. something within her spine tightened uncomfortably mirroring a need to crack her own bones. give herself relief. "you shouldn't seek my help either." a warning —softly spoken to air that thickened around them.

the ache in her bones wasn't from the voice. it was simply the pulsing urge to hold the other woman. care for her, and erase all of the harm caused. patch the wounds and move to brighter days.... rationality alarmed. there was no going back. no crack of light in the clouds. if they were to survive this game of arcadia— every draw of action was to be made with caution. a need to think of harmful repercussion that could tsunami the calm. reyna didn't want anymore harm to come to charlie — certainly not from her.

Confusion morphed into frustration, anger's gentler cousin that often preceded it's arrival. The heat of it burned across Charlie's face, as though she should have felt embarrassed for seeking answers to questions she was more than justified in having. She was entitled to knowing why, in a moment where Charlie had been at her weakest, Reyna had taken the cleaver from her hand with the want of killing her. I'm going to help you wake up now. The heat of hatred seeped in her blood and to her tongue where it aimed to poison her words. At her side her fists trembled with the need to strike.

Something in Reyna's eyes struck the words down before they could even be spoken, hatred smothered by the chill of fear. She stuttered forward then, hand reaching out towards the woman before she could stop. Before she touched Reyna she forced herself to stop, curled the hand back into her chest. "I—" Words failed her. How could she question something she didn't understand, something otherworldly, something that terrified her.

She resolved to not ask anything. It wouldn't help either of them to unearth this evil from the depths of Reyna's soul. There was something equally nefarious crawling underneath her skin too, something that wanted to hate. Yet the love and care she had once had for Reyna prevented her from doing that. Her face hardened as she looked at Reyna. "I can't sleep," she repeated, pain undercutting her words. "I need something to help me sleep. Are you going to help me find it?"