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Viewing Single Post From: Miss Atomic Bomb
Cicada Days
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i can feel something inside me say
[ *  *  *  * ]
Ben was also still up there. Hadn’t been a few minutes since he’d finished his asinine sequestering of Lucilly’s mortal shell.

((Ben Fields continued from Goodnight, Travel Well))

“Yo.”

He recognized that face, that hair, that unfortunate tuft of barely adequate beard and mustache. He recognized how infuriatingly tall that man had always been relative to his own short ass. That man had always had a penchant for being a bit cooler than his mannerisms of speech implied. Maybe too much of a backhanded compliment. Or too much of a compliment at all.

Jeremy Frasier. The heir apparent to the terrorist’s wills and whims as of the announcements of that day. His name was forfeit, his face was smug, his still breathing was a travesty. Ben felt the familiar surge of his blood boiling and teeth beginning to chip as if against grindstones. However the murderer chose to explain himself it couldn’t possibly be good enough. But Ben forced his temper to abate. Or at least simmer to a still, like Ben’s familiarly abortive home cooking.

Kept his face neutral, the dead pits of his eyes reflecting off Jeremy’s own. No assumptions, no action. Not anymore. Ben had long ago stepped down from that position of authority.

“You alright, dude? I can’t imagine the past six days have been kind to you.”

He was dodging around the subject. Typical cowardice. Ben fully turned to face Jeremy, his back now out to the ocean and the starless night sky.
The Dies Before First Rolls Squad

The Nights
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