(no subject)

[ladyfirestarter]

"It doesn't seem to be related to what happened last winter," Charlie's saying as the two women make their way slowly along the lakeshore, "but I'm wondering if it could be something left over."

The sun's dipping low toward the horizon, but isn't down yet. Charlie is wearing a messenger bag, open at the top, and carrying (but not yet using) her cane.

Comments

[flip_the_lights]

Olivia's throat works at the sight.

get out get out get out

The gun slips lower, hangs useless at her side like a broken limb -- and then one hand separates from the grip and fastens tight onto Charlie's shoulder, bodily hauling her back.

"Get out!"

[ladyfirestarter]

It breaks her brief paralysis, staring at the figure's faceless face in horror.

One sobbing breath, and then she's turning to seize Olivia's hand in hers and breaking into a stumbling run back toward the bar.

[flip_the_lights]

The wind cuts at her face; her heart slams up to match it, even as she clenches Charlie's hand tight as if trying to absorb the lingering warmth. With each step, Olivia finds a little more of her footing, and soon they're both driving at a sprint for the light of Milliways.

Well, she thinks, very distantly, as they tear across the grounds. Now we know.

Which is anything but a comfort.

[dont_turn_around]

Watches.

Intrigued.

The fire falls to His feet. It burns in the fallen leaves for a moment, and then winks out.

He has elsewhere to be.