[He finally lets her hand go. He doesn’t have many hopes of finding something clean to bandage things up with; there’s a reason all of them have been wearing their clothing into shreds. He’s pretty sure that there isn’t a piece of fabric on him that isn’t blood and grass-stained, covered in dirt, torn or otherwise tortured beyond repair. Which is a shame, because he did really love his jacket, which was turned into a ratty blanket for an injured kid back on the hilltop.
You’d think at least the clothing store would have had something, but it’s all just rotted scraps. Rotted scraps and stupid-looking handbags.]
Good you got friends. Which one is he? [Dixon thinks he’s met at least most people (punched or gotten punched by about half), but there are always new folks showing up just when he thinks he’s gotten a bead on everyone. And folks disappearing into the mirror, which is creepy as hell.
If he sounds a bit sad, it’s because he is. It’s been a hard six weeks, between losing his Chief and getting set on fire and losing the lead on a case and losing his job, and all that before getting sucked into some fantasy quest to save the Green. The fact that all of his friends just stopped talking to him - they were all friends from work, but he thought they had his back - ranked relatively low on the list of shitty, demoralizing things he’s been smacked with since Easter.
Funny, he didn’t realize until right now that in the Green, holidays don’t matter. He knew days of the week didn’t, but holidays somehow makes it feel like their days are floating in space, unanchored.]
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You’d think at least the clothing store would have had something, but it’s all just rotted scraps. Rotted scraps and stupid-looking handbags.]
Good you got friends. Which one is he? [Dixon thinks he’s met at least most people (punched or gotten punched by about half), but there are always new folks showing up just when he thinks he’s gotten a bead on everyone. And folks disappearing into the mirror, which is creepy as hell.
If he sounds a bit sad, it’s because he is. It’s been a hard six weeks, between losing his Chief and getting set on fire and losing the lead on a case and losing his job, and all that before getting sucked into some fantasy quest to save the Green. The fact that all of his friends just stopped talking to him - they were all friends from work, but he thought they had his back - ranked relatively low on the list of shitty, demoralizing things he’s been smacked with since Easter.
Funny, he didn’t realize until right now that in the Green, holidays don’t matter. He knew days of the week didn’t, but holidays somehow makes it feel like their days are floating in space, unanchored.]
So what are you?