"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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Jonny
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You hate kings and you think kings are really stupid. They are petty, bossy tyrants and are really full of themselves and are basically awful in every way.
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Face full of giddy expectation, a little five year old grinning widely so widely because she's about to hear music for the first time in her life. It's gonna be oh shit, Twinkle Twinkle Little Star? Hahahahahaha, this is fucking priceless! So she steadies herself, barely manages to keep from bursting into laughter, and she starts to sing. She's got a pretty voice, but anyone who knows anything about music would be able to glower at her and say something about how the pitches and the keys are all wrong and the sharps are all flat. She goes: "Twinkle, twinkle, litt-

"OH JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

Unexpected. Just a bit unexpected to hear a huge murderous elephant of a note coming out of the trumpet. Caught Charlie off guard a little, gave her a bit of a scare. But then? Made her laugh. A real, genuine sort of laugh, where she threw her head so far back she ended up losing her balance and plopping onto the grass again. Yeah, Izzy. I think I like you just fine.

"If we ever get off this place, Isabel, I will buy all your albums. Every single one."

It'd worked, hadn't it? Helen seemed happier. Helen was cheering up just fine, she was even laughing, she was even making a joke of her own. Cheer up, Helen, cheer up, cheer up! And everyone else too! This isn't so bad, none of this has to be so bad. It was... weird. A really weird feeling, to be having a good time out here. To be safe and sound and smiling and laughing. And friends. And good friends that she already felt like she'd known a lot longer, that she wished she'd known a lot longer, that- fuck me, why didn't I ever bother to... Didn't matter. She had them now. It was all good for now.

But it was all so fucking delicate too. Any minute, something was going to come along and ruin everything. Something like a huge asshole or a stray bullet- or a very deliberately-aimed bullet- and then it'd all come crashing down. No, no, no, no, not yet. Please not yet. One more day, please. One more sunset for all of them to look at. One more, and please please one more after that. And after that, and after that, and as many sunsets as you can possibly spare. Please. Just a few more smiles and songs before everything comes crashing down and you won't be able to do shit about it, Charlie DuClare. You won't be able to do shit about it.

But that just means you don't have to worry yourself to death over it either. It'll happen when it'll happen. When it does, I can start freaking out. Until then... no way in hell I'm gonna waste this happiness.

And then there was a boy. He probably sucked, and he was probably about to ruin the great thing they had going, and... for Christ's sake, Helen was barely integrated into the group! They had to get to know her a little better first, make her feel more welcome and part of the gang, before they let anyone else join in. It was... no, no, no. Not now. Please just go away and maybe come back later. He was asking if they minded if he joined in. Do we mind? Are we opposed? There is a very clear answer.

"Yes."

Which, if Charlie's ears hadn't deceived her, Dave had said at the exact same time as her. She could help but give Dave a little roguish grin. Yeah, Dave. I think I like you just fine.
Jeremy Franco is alive. You can write a better ending, goddammit.

Charlie DuClare is dead. And nothing was easy anymore except to smile.
Julian Avery is dead. Courage was the man with a gun in his hand.
JJ Sturn is dead. Fuck it, all good things gotta come to an end.
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Day of the Dove · The Greens