week 6, post trial

[robitussin]

[Their numbers keep falling. Three people have died already this week, with two more on the way tomorrow. With the outburst the townspeople gave them once the results came through... If anyone were feeling downhearted, it's to be expected at this point. Things continuing at their current pace is a frightening thought, after all. Like last week, the offer to spend time together or meet in a central location doesn't come.

Hawks and Dabi wait for the morning in their cells, but the rest of the tourists are free to wander about the town as they please; free to rest, to talk with each other, and to try to gather strength wherever they can. So, where does the evening find you, Cartesio?]

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[amburere]

[ In some way the creaks in the usual timbre are music to his ears. He's not a good enough person, not even remotely, to feel worry or concern at this point (particularly given his flashfire mood), but they do make him feel something. They remind him of something.

He's not alone. Misery loves company and fire seeks kindling.

There will be no words of comfort given, but there is a shifting of his legs to wrap arounds Hawks own, even with his current positioning affording little movement. It means that they're more hopelessly tangled that they've ever been, and that's saying something. ]

I feel 'nother headline being written. "Two boys thrust into tragedy and abandoned at a young age, one destined to be a Hero and the other a Villain, and destined to fall in love!?" [ He can't say that word seriously, and he snickers, his ribcage rattling its own discordant melody. ]

And what shall I call my prince, my hero, to whom my arrow has pierced his heart?

[ As much as he hates his own name, like everything else he's found a use for it, satirical romantic soliloquies and all. ]