Opening the tap, he watched the water disappear into the drain for a second for taking a few long gulps, the ice cold water doing well to wake him up. It wasn’t as dirty as some he’d come across, which said something. Moving to the bathroom, Mike looked around, eyes narrowing as he took in the state of the room. His stomach rumbled as it did often nowadays, but he ignored it for now - he’d gotten used to ignoring hungry. Sighing, he got up from where he’d been sitting on the ground in the hallway, against the wall, and rolled his back and neck slowly, bones cracking as he did. Blinking slowly, his first reaction to look down at the watch on his wrist, a watch that had broken a long time ago. Mike hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and he hadn’t realised he actually had until his body made a sudden jerk and his eyes opened abruptly. START TIME: Present day - a few minutes before dawn Mike para paras that need a name mike para 1 location 1 20 questions Jack mulled over how much worse he could actually be as she kicked a rock into a storm drain, and it wasn’t long before her thoughts once again turned to her empty belly. He also didn’t bitch about how small and young she was. However, when Mike did speak, he knew what he was talking about. Mike had gotten an extra big smile as a greeting. Since Jack prided herself on not being a scrambled dipshit, she’d wiped the cold sweat from her face, tied her shoelaces, and gotten about her day. The event made her feel like a scrambled dipshit. External silence only amplified her internal noise, leading to bouts of paranoia - this morning she’d awoken from a dream convinced the Irishman would kill her if he didn’t eat soon. Staying optimistic required singing, joking, fucking conversing. After a few weeks with Mike, Jack’s most troubling conclusion was that at times the older man became as isolated as she was gregarious. Suspicious, Jack surveyed the area as she walked alongside her companion in near silence. So far the walk had been peaceful enough not to necessitate the use of either. Jack twirled a kitchen knife in one hand and made sure the handle of her dinky baseball bat poked from her backpack. The sun shone high, beating warmthlessly down upon the pair, neither of whom were about to let a few humanoids get in the way of potential grocery shopping. Which was exactly why thirteen year old was scouting Tremont Street with Mike. Catching them seemed like a miracle, but after two days of unsuccessful scavenging any gratitude to a higher power was gone and she felt ready to crawl back into bed with the devil just for a little warmth. The last things they’d eaten were three squirrels Jack had killed. Boston’s pipes had finally frozen solid and as a result drinking meant shoveling winter down one’s throat in the form of snow. Winter embodied it.Īnd each day Jack felt more indistinguishable from it - her skin stretched tighter over bones, her hands mottled blue and red, her bones ached deeper. Mike & Jack have been traveling together for a few weeks. NOTES: Universe where former groups never existed. LOCATION: Near Boston’s city center on a main street. TAG: Michael Guinness & Jacqueline Arceneaux Thank you for your patience and understanding & i apologize for the wait on this jack's definition of quiet is much different from most people's because she could talk all the time hopefully as i write replies things will read more smoothly pentifery mike para 2 mike para
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