#easton: conversations 「so i disassociate until i'm separate from my body and i shelter in the words i never said」

[settledwounds]

❝ EVERYBODY IS A BOOK OF BLOOD. WHEREVER WE'RE OPENED, WE'RE RED. ❞

 ⸻. ᚠᚱᛟᛗ  ⸻  logan lerman. cis man. he/him. ⸻  i saw EASTON JAMES around COLONY HOUSE, you know? the  29 years old that was driving from BROOKLYN, NEW YORK  when they saw the tree on the road. EASTON has been here for TWO DAYS and I think they were A FOURTH YEAR MEDICAL STUDENT before they got stuck in the town. with the way things are now, they are now struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy and  seek a way out without losing themselves or dying.  lets hope you at least survive the night.  ⸻

GENERAL   information.  ⸻

full   name easton nathaniel james

nickname(s)  easton

age   twenty-nine

gender   identity  cis man

orientation    bisexual

place   of   birth   baltimore, maryland

date   of   birth     may 2nd, 1994

former   occupation medical student at nyu

3   positive traits  dauntless, incisive and steadfast

3   negative traits  acrimonious, persistent and volatile

moral alignment  lawful neutral

faceclaim  logan lerman

TOWN   information.  ⸻

current   residency   colony house

current   occupation doctor

BIOGRAPHY   your   character's   background.  (TW: death, medical explanations) ⸻

Easton hoped he would move through this life without incident, without anything that would shake up his whole world, but nobody gets what they really want.

Easton's world was mundane, ordinary even. The son of two Polish immigrants with a younger brother never screamed unique for him. He was just one of many in school as a child. His parents did the best they could, but they would often work long hours. Thankfully, he had his younger brother Ezra in his life to make the days less ordinary.

Despite the pressure he felt from the outside, Ezra always seemed to take his stress away effortlessly. While Easton felt lost in the universe, Ezra always seemed sure of himself. That's what was the worst about his accident. At fourteen years old, Ezra not only insisted on becoming involved in school sports but demanded it in hopes to integrate himself more. Eventually their parents caved and he was able to start playing football for their high school, excelling in it almost immediately.

It wouldn't be much longer until Ezra experienced the last blow, literally. A usual game, just like the others before, that ended up with his brother facing up on the turf. As a precaution they went to the hospital, but was diagnosed with nothing more than a simple head injury and sent home without further testing. Days later, in the middle of the school day an ambulance arrived to take the younger James brother to the hospital.

It was an undiagnosed traumatic brain injury from the blow to his head. If it had been caught early enough, Ezra would have been fine, but without a CT scan to diagnose the injury, his brain was left to bleed and the pressure caused him to seize and lose consciousness. Ezra never woke up after that. At sixteen years old, Easton became an only child.

The hospital took his parents aside, offered them a measly 500,000 that went as quickly as it came, to avoid a lawsuit and without knowing anything else, they accepted. It didn't matter what payout the James family received, it didn't take away their loss. Easton couldn't understand what had happened, that he lost his brother from a stupid mistake. After that, Easton was done living a life of uncertainty.

He became obsessed with his brother's case, even if it would never bring back his brother he learned the mistake they had made and he enraged. The system failed them and he would do anything to make sure that wouldn't happen again.

Studying for the rest of his high school years, he rose academically to make sure that he could get into the best school, the best programs so that he could become a doctor that would be more diligent than those who treated his brother. His parents watched their oldest go from a soft young boy to a toughened man. He had gotten into the University of Maryland without trouble and dedicated all his time and studies to prepare for medical school.

All that hard work paid off and he accepted a position at the NYU medical school. Vindication was within reach and even if time passed, Easton never forgot about Ezra and what happened. He had seen numerous cases in school of those with a head injury, each one of them correctly diagnosed and they left the school with their lives which was never offered to Ezra.

Easton was about ready to graduate, but his best friend suggested a road trip to upstate New York for one last celebration of fun before they all went their separate ways with their residencies. However, a fallen tree would derail their plans.

Through the woods, Easton lost his friend and managed to be discovered by people who helped him and took him to a place that he was safe. He felt like he was losing his brother again when they told him that there was no way out of this place he had stumbled upon and now he faces the same pain he felt all those years ago.

Now, he's been hearing his brother's voice at night and slowly he's going mad.

[bloodiedfields]

Location: The Burnout Open Starter

"Ezra?"

Easton's ears always perked up when he heard the familiar name, but he would run the other way. Two years had passed since he uttered the name of his fallen brother, the idea too painful to even speak. At hearing his name being called out to him, he walked away from the crowds who watched the cars race for money and glory.

The voice didn't stop and he grew irate, "listen, you've got the wrong guy," he spat back angrily.

[bloodiedfields]

It was times like these that Easton's core personality emerged, not the one he portrayed to cover up his trauma and sadness. How could Ezra have been so calm while he was itching out of his skin? He couldn't ask his younger brother anymore, so he was left with unanswered questions forever. "It's been a long night," he murmured, "I'm fine though, just tired," it was a simple enough excuse. Even if the older man tried to calm his nerves, Easton didn't know him and it was best he kept his mouth shut, "if the offer for the sprite is still on the table, I'll take it." Don't be suspicious, Easton. It was no different than operating on a patient and once upon a time he was a pro at that.

looking    at    the    younger    ,    rusty    could    sense    the    dread    swallowing    him    whole.    he    looked    behind    him    before    gazing    around    the    structure.    it    looked    as    ordinary    as    it    always    did.    "ain't    a    soul    gonna   to    find    you    here"    rusty    assures    him    without    confiding    an    important    detail    ;    the    only    nark    in    the    establishment    was    him.    he    reserved    the    detail    for    himself.    the    cia    didn't    pay    for    extra    credit.    "don't    know    what    you're    running    from    ---    and    please   ,    i    don't    want    to    know.    just    eat    ,    you're    trembling    like    a    leaf."

[settledwounds]

Easton wasn't heeding anyone's warnings about staying close to town or colony house as he ventured on his own toward the woods. He was always cautious, but he didn't want to be stuck in this hell like everyone else. Easton needed to get back to his life. Maybe there was something missing and if just someone figured it out, then they could all return to what was before.

No matter what path he took, he would end up where he began. It almost seemed fruitless, but it didn't stop him from trying again every day. He was stuck in purgatory and all he wanted was out, whether he ended up in hell or not.

A twig snapped beneath his feet and his eyes shot towards the stranger staring back at him, "hello," he quietly whispered. He didn't realize anyone was out here, especially someone he didn't recognize from colony house. Easton was told that those from town didn't come out here, so who was this? He gave her a small wave, "I'm Easton," he offered, "I haven't been here long, so I've been looking around. I didn't mean to disturb you."

🝤      open,   on the edge of the forest

      it's one of those ooey,   gooey      high - summer heatwaves;      alice rouses early,   not even the birds quite yet alive to greet her with their morning song,   so that she might complete the day's tasks before the sun bears too      heavily      down upon her.      but this plan will prove trivial.      in just a few short hours,   it begins to    �� suffocate;      that sultry sort of warmth,   waves of it shimmering above the stretch of dead grass they have crushed beneath their feet.      they feel it like a thin sheet,   wrapped close to the nose,   to the mouth.      every gulp of air she heaves is      wet.      but wood must be split regardless,   lest the two measly fish she's caught be left to other beasts of prey,   and she finds herself fading into the motion of it.      automatic,   unconscious.      a bead of sweat to follow each blow,   the bit of their blade against the grain,   over and over and over again.      drip.   thwack.   drip.   thwack.      out there,   the cicadas drone on,   and meld into a kind of chorus.      drip.   thwack.      familiar.      drip.   thwack.      a voice,   almost.      drip.   thwack.      no,   voices.      drip.   thwack.      and ones she knows.      drip   ⸺

the      snap!      of a twig upsets this stupor,   and they rise from their stump with a jolt.      all other noise bleeds away,   and what remains is the thrum of their heart;      quick as a rabbit's,   deafening.      their gaze darts through the treeline,   now vigilant.      and without a second thought,   the grip on their hatchet is      loosed and sent spinning.      it takes some handful of breaths before alice comes to see that it has only lodged itself in a nearby tree.      still,   the sense of another pair of eyes at her back persists.      and with a harsh,   though unsteady tone,   does she offer a simple,      "   helloˀ   "

[settledwounds]

Daytime was the only time that Easton could venture out in this new town that demanded his existence. There was no way out, he tried and everyone who came before him tried as well. The only worry now was Zelda and if she was stuck here too. He didn't venture too far from the colony house just due to the injuries he had sustained, but as soon as he healed, he'd go off and search for her. "Uh, yeah," he mumbled to Nazli, another resident of the colony house, "honestly, who am I going to tell?" As far as he knew he was the newest guest of this town and right now, he was still trying to understand all of it. Grabbing one of the blueberries, he felt a small sense of normalcy, as if he wasn't stuck in this place with strangers.

𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓    ⸻   somewhere in town at some patch of grass with anyone

even with a handmade basket filled with freshly picked blueberries near them, nazli's hands are instead focused on the feel of the grass beneath them. when your whole existence seems bleak ( or perhaps even just wholly stuck in some personal purgatory ⸻ as unwanted by reality as they were by their parents ). attention turns to the footsteps that catch their attention, looking up at someone who was unlucky enough to walk by just close enough. "they're fresh." nazli nods towards the basket of blueberries, legs crossed at the ankles and knees coming towards her chest as she rests her elbow on her knee. "if you don't tell on me, i'll share some with you just this once. i don't want someone to go looking for my berry bush and steal these from me. can i trust you?" as if she would. no harm in some company, she supposes.

[settledwounds]

Easton let out all the stress he had held onto the moment his eyes spotted her. All the worry slowly melted away and he felt okay, not great, but in the moment okay was better than nothing. "Everything is truly fucked," he mirrored her words, "I don't understand either. This isn't logical." The two had led the last four years of their lives based rational and clear thinking and nothing in this place made any sense.

Since his arrival, Easton hadn't had a moment of rest where he could breathe, but now with Zelda here he felt his fractured mind put itself slightly back together. Losing her in the scuffle had been the scariest thing he had experienced and internally he wasn't right. Things were as right as they could be and he'd be thankful for that.

Nodding, "as good as I can be," he sighed, "someone helped me, not before he stole my jacket." It was an odd experience, but nothing here was normal, "they had somethings so I could patch myself up," he pointed to the cut on his forehead, "and this place, colony house, it's like a hippie dippie free for all," it was a small joke, "I don't know what to do here.

"Are you okay?"

He was stronger than her. How was he so strong? Why was she the only one crying, panicking? A flash of shame electrocutes her, but just as quickly as those thoughts came, they're gone at the hold of his embrace. She breathes in deeply in an attempt to steady her breathing, standing in silence for a moment.

"Everything is..." Finally, some words find their way out of her mouth. She can feel wetness against his shirt from the remnants of her tears. Her eyes sting, and her nose is running, but at long last she can feel like she has the capacity to speak. "I don't understand." Zelda's words come out as low as a whisper, feeling her throat tighten toward the end of her sentence.

You've spoken too much, she thinks. She already feels like she looks so weak in front of him, and now he would have to live with this memory of her in such a fragile state. She sniffles, attempting her best to hold back any other tears threatening to fall, pulling back from his embrace. Crybaby.

"Are you okay?"

[bloodiedfields]

Easton didn't know what had gotten into his head after he tracked a one Opal Fontaine down. He had never know her, didn't even know of her presence, but the mysterious circumstances of his brother's car accident landed her on his radar. The pair would have never crossed paths had it not been for them being victims of an unassuming car crash.

Red Lantern was unremarkable, a place that wouldn't be suspicious to anyone to have this talk with a stranger. Easton had come across the accident she had been in and how similar it had been to his brother's caught his eye and decided to reach out in hopes of finding some closure, something he thought would bring him peace.

Clearing his throat, "I have no idea what that is," he admitted, "thanks for meeting me. Quickly ordering, his eyes spotted the straw that was in her beer and wondered if she had ever stepped foot in a place like this. "I had some questions," he took a pause, "about the car crash you were in a few years ago."

@bloodiedfields ft. easton

location; the red lantern one would think that opal fontaine would only take herself to more lavish watering holes, brought by the promise of beautifully cut glasses and the need to be admired. and yet, it was in soho's own (and only) izakaya that the star of the old world casino made her home for the evening, hands around a pint of beer with a straw sticking out of the top. it was busy, noisy, the heady smells of alcohol and grilling food lingering around - a good place for a secret meeting. or - not terribly secret. they were just following up a tip, a date and a time, a place. something left specifically for her in a dressing room yet, whomever it was seemed to be a no-show. perhaps they were waiting for them to leave, to slip a knife in the belly and rip off the pearls around their neck. opal had come without a bodyguard. it's when someone sits near her she says; "this better be good, i turned down a showing of les parapluies de cherbourg for this,"

[settledwounds]

Easton thrashed against the being that tried to keep him down, "calm down?" He fought against whoever kept grabbing, "you're the one grabbing at me," it came out as a growl. Couldn't the stranger see that he was alive and the pilfering needed to be over? Easton needed to find Zelda and get back to their car before this person could end his life. A sting burned at his arms as he felt buried under the weight of the other, "get the fuck off of me." Maybe it was the adrenaline of the whole ordeal that kept him belligerent, but he wouldn't give up that quickly. He would have to deal with the pain later. "Who are you?" He called out once more, "Zelda!" His voice shouted into the sunset, hoping someone else hadn't gotten to her first. "How do I know you're not the one who hurt me? You're hurting me now you asshole!" Easton knew his body would run out of steam eventually, but every moment he could fight, he would, "where the hell are we? Why can't I remember how I got here?" Everything after going around the fallen tree on the road was a blur and now his best friend was missing as well. "I just need to know if my friend is okay. A blonde woman, around 5'4"," his body stopped the battle as he let the stranger take over.

The last thing Cade expected was for it to move, and suddenly, everything shifted. Delicate approach and consideration were reserved for the dead, the fallen of every attempt to make it out alive— but the living? They didn't seem to matter until death was at the door.

"Oh fuck— fuck!" Cade cried out, jolted by the sudden outburst of what should have been buried soon enough. The red that stained between them suddenly poured out hot. The proof of life was now threatened by it's own validation. And it was getting all over the jacket. "Whoa, buddy, calm down!"

Shaking hands pulled what was left of the scratched leather out from underneath him, but Cade's grip was threatened by the thrashing of what what he assumed was dead. Who was dead.

Using the full weight of his body just as Fletcher taught him, endless attempts to learn to fight with skill instead of just will, he pushed the man back down. There was some guilt using his wound to his advantage, but Cade pushed him down. What lingered between the trees was still unknown, including rumors of those who'd rather linger here than in town or Colony House.

"Hey, hey, hey! Shut it! You're bleeding, man. You're hurt. I need you to calm down so I can see what's going on," Cade instructed him, voice steady despite the pounding in his chest. "I need to see how bad it is because I gotta get us out of here, alright? You need help, and we can't be here after dark."

[bloodiedfields]

Up until now, Easton kept his distance from the gang he had joined. He followed orders, did what he had to do but avoided anything else having to do with them. It was a hasty decision that he chose when he joined. Someone offered a lot of money for his skills as a driver, but he had to prove his loyalty and once he did, he realized the consequences of his actions. Until now, he had kept his nose clean, then he was served with a summons, so to speak. He had never met Liena Chen, just her reputation as his boss. He was lucky to never be formally called into her office, however his lucky streak didn't last too long as he was called into her office just now. He hadn't done anything wrong, at least that he knew of, but he still felt like a child about to be scolded, this time had larger ramifications though. Following directions, he took a seat across from her and accepted the cookie offer. Was this her buttering him up before she offed him? Easton's shoulders finally relaxed, "the burnout?" He said, swallowing the last bits of cookie in his mouth, "yeah, what about it?"

WHO: Liena Chen & Easton James (@bloodiedfields) WHERE: Metropolitan Opera House, Liena's Office

Liena knew that, to remain on top in a city as expansive as New York City, one had to constantly evolve and adjust to the current times. She felt like Jade Tribe was in a good place, with finances coming in as predicted and the ongoing partnership with Annunaki Pharmaceuticals, but she knew better than to grow complacent. Jade Tribe needed to expand to better insert their power over the city, and what better way than to extend their territory?

She had her eyes set on the desolate land of Staten Island and the street racing center that rested among the debris and abandoned homes. If they could expand their drug network to that part of the city, then perhaps they could get an edge over the other mobs. It was an ambitious plan, but there was one small snag--- Liena had rarely ventured into that part of town.

The realization is what led her to summon EASTON JAMES to her office. She had heard whispers of a street racer in their midst, and she hoped the boy's expertise would prove useful. She straightened up a bit when she saw him enter her office, a practiced smile appearing on her lips as she motioned to the seat across from her. ❝Easton, have a seat.❞ She pushed a container of cookies toward the unoccupied desk, indicating that he was welcome to have one for himself,  ❝I promise you're not in trouble. I just had a few questions about a certain hangout of yours.❞  

[bloodiedfields]

Despite the revving of engines and the chatter of those that watched, the Burnout was Easton's quiet place. Every time he came, he thought about the time Ezra had brought him here and how disapproving he had been. His brother would be laughing if he could see Easton now. There were even days that Easton couldn't believe what had happened to him, but he still continued forward with his choices. The only non destructive thing Easton had done in the last two years was meet the friends he wouldn't have met otherwise.

As much as Easton kept to himself there were a few people he had gotten to know here. Nodding over at Bit, “yeah I’m in the last race of the night,” he murmured. It was a large purse tonight, one he couldn’t afford to lose. This was how he made his living, a secret kept from his parents who thought he was practicing medicine. “There seems to be a bit of competition,” his eyes searched for the other racers involved, but it didn’t matter. He needed to keep his calm and approach this as if it was heart surgery: there could be no mistakes. “I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” he looked over at his friend.

・   ✦   ・𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐂𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐒 /   *    (   closed starter for @bloodiedfields)

The pulsating grounds of The Burnout resonated with a palpable mix of adrenaline and mire, encapsulating the thriving subculture of street racing amid the decaying remnants of abandoned factories and discarded android heaps. For Bitto Mori, The Burnout held a profound significance, serving as the crucible where his passion for motorcycles ignited and flourished. The center of rabble and scum, as some might describe it, had become his haven over the past decade. It was here that the amalga between his love for street racing and the meticulous mastery of his methodological mind took shape, inspired by the raw and visceral scenes unfolding in this gritty arena. The very essence of The Burnout, with its gritty ambiance, had left an indelible mark on Bit's soul, shaping his identity as a racer and mechanic. 

As Bit observed Easton's maneuvers, a knowing smirk curled on his lips. The collision of their worlds, each defined by the asphalt's embrace, seemed inevitable. With his hair meticulously greased back, Bit approached Easton, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of revving engines. "You racing tonight?" 

[settledwounds]

Easton had hoped that going on runs would give him some clue to Zelda's whereabouts, but so far he had found nothing that would tell him where she was. The other colony house residents were saying he was going off of false hope. Until he saw proof that she was dead, he would keep hoping that in all of this shit, she was still around here somewhere. "Hmm," his eyes spotted the cigarette pack in Wes' hands and shook his head, "no, I'm good." He had only smoked a few cigarettes in his life, but the risk of dying was far greater than the rush of nicotine and social pressure ever could be. Now, it didn't matter because he could die at any moment, "liquor sounds far better right now though." Sighing, "how long you been here?" It was a curiosity he couldn't help but satisfy. The last few days since he had woken up he wondered how long this place had existed and how many people who had gone missing in the world that ended up here.

── car graveyard , weston & easton !

what had he expected to find, out among the pilfered remains of scrapped vehicles in the aptly named 'graveyard' on the town's borders? fearless—or perhaps simply reckless—west was one of the few colony members dumb enough to throw himself to the lions and scavenge. so far, three hours of effort sunk, he had managed to salvage a spool of copper wire that hung wrapped around his shoulder, one of those dashboard bobbleheads and, with a euphoric cry, a pack of smokes. "well, i'll be damned!" and that worn head of red dye shot up like a mole rat, "you wanna split this pack right now, or hit one an' trade the rest for some bottles of 'shine?" @settledwounds

[bloodiedfields]

Easton's heart raced as he walked along the concrete sidewalk, his eyes peering behind him to make sure no one was following him. The race at the burnout had caught the attention of the authorities. He did his best to outdrive them, but ditched the car in a safe spot before walking to avoid any more of the spotlight. It would only be a few hours until the heat was gone, but he could waste the time easily.

Easton needed to blend in with the denizens of the night and took a seat at one of the bodegas to eat and calm his nerves. Hands still shook despite his desperate need for composure, "a sprite," he looked over at the stranger, "I'm good, thanks though." He looked at the bowl of noodles placed in front of him and his appetite hadn't appeared with it.

[   𝗢𝗣𝗘𝗡    𝗟𝗜𝗠𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗗    𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗥,     0/5    ]     𝙴𝚇𝚃.    𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾𝙼    𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃    𝚁𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽    𝚂𝙷𝙾𝙿    -    𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃.    CHARACTERS    FEATURED,     RUSTY    WEST    &   UTP.

the    wet    concrete    glistens    with    reflections    of    the    screens    plastered    on    every    high    rise    within    five    miles.    the    city    has    changed    over    the    years    but    one    thing    remained    evergreen:    the    bodegas    lining    the    industrial    side    of    town.    hard-working    folk    lounged    around    here    for    the    quick    service    and    cheap    eats.    rusty's    been    a    local    for    forty    years    now    and    developed    an    iron    gut    for    the    cuisine    ;    pickings    were    slim    with    it    being    after    midnight    and    only    a    few    bucks    in    your    pocket.    "need    a    sprite    ?    you    look    a    little    green."

[settledwounds]

Easton still hadn't come to terms with the gravity of the situation he had found himself in. There was no way home and he was alone, for good. Zelda's disappearance weighed on him. The residents at Colony House had told him that he was lucky to have been found alive in the woods and hoped that his friend had been taken quickly for her sake. It still didn't ease his mind. He attempted to assimilate with the rest of the people who lived in the colony house, but his head was still stuck mourning his best friend. So much so that he swore he could hear her voice call out to him. His eyes even spotted her in the distance. Squinting against the sunlight he could almost see the outline of his best friend, "Zelda?" Quickly forgetting about whatever he was tasked to do, his feet dragged him to her and realized she wasn't a mirage this place was tricking him. Easton watched as tears spilled from her eyes and immediately pulled her into his arms, "there's no reason to be sorry," his hands found her back, soothing her as best as he could. "I'm so fucking glad you're alive," he felt a sigh leave his body, expelling every ounce of stress he had that he held on to her waiting for a sign from her, "you have no fucking idea."

for: @settledwounds location: outside the colony house

"Easton?" His name sprawls out of her lips with familiarity, a breath hitching in her throat at the figure in the distance. The wind whistled through the branches, leaves crunching beneath her worn-out shoes with every slow step she took. "I-I thought you..." Then, she trails off, somehow unable to find the strength to even finish her sentence.

It was a painful thing, having to lose one important person after the other. It was even more exhausting to have come to the realization that Easton was not, in fact, gone. A deep sense of relief followed suit, and yet Zelda could not help but be filled with grief and despair.

Her cheeks flushed, betraying the turmoil within, and she pressed her lips together as if in doing so, she could contain the flood of emotions. In a fleeting moment, a single teardrop rebelled, leaving a glistening trail down her cheek. Her legs feel like they move on their own to the brunette, arms wrapping tightly around him, her face nuzzling against his chest.

"I'm sorry... I'm s-so..." Tears begin to stream down her face, and suddenly she feels like she can't catch her breath.

[settledwounds]

The ground felt soft below Easton, damp and cold almost. His body felt heavy as the rustle of trees surrounded him. He couldn't remember much about last night, other than losing Zelda in the chaos of the darkness. Recalling the tree across the road and then suddenly the rest was a blur that he couldn't recount and a panic shot through him.

He felt his arms being manipulated by someone other than himself, "Zelda," he yelled out, shoot up and seeing a stranger instead of his best friend. Eyes adjusting to the brightness, "what the hell are you doing?" Easton was in an unfamiliar place and all his sense were on high alert. "Who are you? Where am I?"

Easton felt stuck in a nightmare he couldn't escape. Jerking away from the stranger, pushing him in the progress, "get the fuck off me!"

open to: easton james | @settledwounds location: the woods, outskirts of town & colony house

The dirt stung when he crashed into the floor, bark piercing his palms on his way down under the shuffle of fallen leaves. Cade didn't feel it yet, though— his mind was still mulling over what he's fallen over, the concept of who seemingly long gone. His stomach twisted in knots that were pulled taunt with every ragged breath. He had seen blood, that had been what startled him and why he'd lost his footing. Cade had seen bodies left in tattered remnants of those he'd known before, and he'd never grown accustomed to it. He didn't want to. The revolt against it in his memory ensured that he'd never picture Olivia that way, wherever she was— whether it was man or creature who'd done it. He knew his mind well enough to craft the catastrophe and he'd never look long enough to burn it into his memory. But supplies. The wit and instinct of a survivalist was sickening, and Cade wasn't sure when he'd developed it. Adrenaline warm in his body, he pushed himself upright to look back at the body lying amongst the roots of the forrest floor. A jacket for him, shoes for Hughie who he'd been on the way to see, a shirt for Nazli if she cut it right, pants for Videl, a watch for Xander. All it took was a quick engagement. On his feet, Cade moved slowly in its direction. It was the middle of the day and the heat alone from the sun beating down on them was enough to convince him nothing would be coming for what was left of the man any time soon. He reached forward, pulling the jacket off the arms and peeling it away.