"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Viewing Single Post From: Haemolacria
Cicada Days
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👀 (credit to Kotorikun)
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He almost said something when Penelope started to run off. Or at least he almost ran after her, but the energy somehow wasn't there. He simply watched. Dutifully, sullenly, he didn't know.

Recognition turned out to be a particularly forceful stab to the chest. Even bled air as an icy cold gasp of former island breeze escaped his lungs, as he watched a girl all too familiar form out of the vague distance.

Turns out he'd been wrong to assume she'd have always been the innocent sort. Not like he could have envisioned any old bastard from the halls of Cochise wearing self-made bloody fashion, but for it to be her? He'd never spoken much to her, maybe even not at all. He'd worried about her once, the new girl on the block, spared her thoughts as if she were his own sister, or... Years of never speaking- a lifetime in her case- meant that all the fucking soundbytes he had of her, well. Bored terrorists having coffee over announcements.

His blood burned, but he stayed strictly still even as his impotent fury ground the bones of his trembling joints to dust.

Her name wasn't her own name anymore. Her name was Cristobal. Her name was Bradley. Her name was Caleb.

"Kimiko Kao."

He murmured it like a goddamn child throwing a tantrum, refusing to stare at any of them. He still stood at attention, awaiting further orders. The inertia in his rock-throwing hand was at its apex.
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Haemolacria · Northwest Cliffs