IF WE HADN'T BEEN AT ALL » open, double joining

[eliza]

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there's something sort of sweet, about finding your other half. in such a big and extensive world, to find someone who fits just right, who's hand is an extension of your own, who's heart is tethered to your own. who's everything seems both the exact same and the exact opposite of yours, but you belong to each other. that's a magical, impossible sort of thing. when prairie was small, she used to think that it only existed in fairy tales. she was a child of nine, with parents who did little more than mutter and mumble even before the world went to crap. she'd pledged herself to a life of servitude because she figured it might give her some meaning, some purpose, some way to matter, but it didn't. the force in her town was bullshit, run by puppets who did wicked things. she'd been fifteen and she'd had nothing to live for, nothing to fight for. she was in a world that was red. red with anger, with bloodshed, with pain. and within all this red, a boy with a pair of eyes greener than the summer showed up in her life, and she found something to start fighting for.

they married at eighteen. ran away from home, left everything that they'd ever known behind. at least, she had. she'd given up everything for him, for this boy with green eyes that pulled her feet from beneath her. they didn't quite fit into their world, so they made one of their own. nearly a decade, this love lasted. nearly a decade where prairie had someone she could call her own. they moved often, nothing was really permanent, but he was. he was always there by her side, the only person she ever thought she could trust. and god, she'd loved him. more than she should have, maybe. she'd wake up in the morning and start some coffee, and in the quiet she'd think that this could be her forever. prairie and babe. they could take on the world, they could start a family, they could be happy. but she'd always come back to reality, she'd remember that they couldn't start a family when they couldn't ever settle down, and maybe that was alright too, no matter how badly she wanted a little boy with her golden hair and his father's green eyes and charming smile. she could make due with this life, she could be happy with it, because at least she had him.

until she didn't. until he lied and broke her heart and prairie wasn't really sure she could ever forgive him, but maybe it was for the best. they'd been kids, when they fell in love, and they were now pushing thirty. they'd grown up, and maybe they'd grown apart. she still loved him, this couldn't be argued. every now and then, she'd look at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention, and she'd remember the comfort of waking up beside him, of his eyes on her, of all the little things that made her love him in the first place. but eventually, she'd look away, pretend her cup of coffee was more interesting. she kept his last name, cortés, rather than going to her maiden taylor. it was easier that way, not making some unnecessary change; she'd been prairie cortés for the latter third of her life, and prairie taylor just didn't fit right anymore. she still wore her ring, too. the little band on her left hand, simple and thin and making her hands look all the more dainty. she liked to tell herself that it was for safety, that the band told the world she wasn't alone and it protected her. but she was an inch shy of six feet tall, she was a well trained soldier, she could protect herself just fine. she supposed it was sentiment, remembering the days when she was younger, when she was sure that they could figure it out together.

she wore it that day, too. the ring caught the sun as she walked, thin frame wrapped in a few layers. the golden lob that made up her hair was pulled back into a pony tail, to keep it off of her face, but it only exposed the pink of her cheeks from the cold. her right hand was stuffed into her pockets, kept warm, while the left hand grasped the thermos in her hand tightly, bringing the container of still-hot coffee to her lips for a sip. you could never catch her without that ring, or some container of coffee. they were her saving graces. "knulla,[sup]1[/sup]" she cursed in her native tongue as she made her way through the snow, "i forgot how much i hate the cold." she drew in another sip from the thermos before tightening the top on it, arm easily bending to slip it into a side-pocket of her bag before glancing back at her companion, offering him a friendly, almost playful smile. "is it too late to turn around, go somewhere sunny and warm?" a joke, of course. prairie had set her mind on flintlock, and it would be a cold day in hell to change it.

( please wait for [member=8623]kid[/member] to post!! )

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[sup]1[/sup] fuck

[eliza]

[member=8623]kid[/member] [member=8728]BABE[/member]

[grimoire]

[align=center][div style="borderwidth; width: 420px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 8.5pt; line-height: 10pt;"]in a world of choking truths and smooth lies, fairytales didn't exist, nor did they happen out of the blue. happiness was a feeling many chased with few succeeding in getting it and holding on to it. ( happiness is fleeting and the constant battle to keep it never dies. ) it was odd how some people kept happiness without having to endlessly running after it. a specific drug that nobody could distribute, inject, or ingest because it was pure and intangible. completely raw and utterly sweet that caused fuzzy feelings and lasting warmth by a simple look. nobody ever taught him what it was like to love another.

( breathtakingly wonderful. )

it was contained with a figure of gorgeous fair skin and pretty blonde hair that glowed in the sun. the physical embodiment of beauty itself before him amongst the bodies of others at the age of fifteen, mystified at the lack of attention of someone who seemed so perfect in a way a young teenager's brain lacked the ability to express. a life of giving drugs to crooked leaders and careless subordinates didn't seem to be as dull anymore when a brighter future could happen.

they called him stupid when they decided to get hitched at eighteen and left the place behind. he knew the life he had didn't magically disappear, nor could he escape it unless he desired see what the afterlife had to offer. but it didn't matter to babe in the least. not when everything he wanted was right before him. the consequences were clear and decided he'd face them when the time came. all that mattered to him was her. she was his whole world by then, brushing off the dust off reality when it tried to settle on him, refusing to give it much thought. no, not when he had everything he needed before him and stubbornly refused to face the painful truths when they appeared. sure, they moved a lot, but it shouldn't prevent them from having a family. an issue that nagged him, but quietly pushed down and kept to himself for the most part. patience was hard to have when he lived with volatile people.

then this... fairytale cracked and shattered into a million pieces in a blink of an eye. confronted and unable to speak the truth and simply stood in silence, taking the stinging pain of faith lost. a pair of pretty green eyes clouding with distrust and hurt while another set of bright green dulled in misery, both seeing the world a little less beautiful on that day. he knew that she could never fully forgive him for the lies and couldn't blame her, no matter how much he wanted to tell her the truth.

( "it's not that i won't, it's that i can't." )

guess it's true that there's no rest for the wicked.

there were few things in the world to offer up some sort of happiness. the fact that they still traveled together was pleasant even if it wasn't the same between them. the fact of her keeping his last name despite everything did bring small moments of joy to his heart, even if he made rationality of it is that he held it for so many years. but the choice to go to her maiden was always, always, open. and the ring— the ring. she kept it when the opportunity to toss it aside and forget revealed itself more times than he could count, but, again, years of being together in a bubble of love didn't disappear overnight... right? thoughts that tickled the back of his mind more often than not and grew weary of them each time they reared their ugly heads. guess there were some things they couldn't figure out together. perhaps in a happier time they could. perhaps.

green eyes involuntarily squint at the gleam of the golden band decorating a slender finger glinting in their direction. babe's own bounced off the thick bundle of clothing he wrapped himself in. the colder climates weren't something he enjoys and would rather go south and soak in the heat. honestly, he would rather get swept away by a hurricane than be stuck in the snow, but he didn't complain out loud. they typically didn't stay too long in one specific area and didn't worry too much about it. besides, last he checked, prairie didn't favor cold locations that much either. lips curl up at the comment and chuckled quietly with a mocking tsk of the tongue at her question. "oh, what was that, princesa? you want to leave after just getting here?" mock shock laced his features. "but i was sure you wanted to come here." he shook his head but held a wide grin. "so this is it, hm?"

/ GUESS WHO'S REALLY FASHIONABLY LATE VBNBFHN like damn, you should have pestered me to death and holler at my procrastinating ass, but it's all good if you rather not ?? homeboy understands if you're upset with him ?

[sharkbeak]

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also sorry that i can't match your post length, lmao

Lupin hates fairytales.

That's probably a surprise to those that don't know him, even more so to those that think they know him - and to those with an honest connection, it's perhaps as unsurprising as the sun's rise above the horizon every morning. Painfully-false fiction isn't something he's come to appreciate over time; as a child, perhaps, he lost himself in fantasy, but the magic is very easily lost on a mind that's seen all evidence point to them being cruel impossibilities. That's not to say that he's a grim pessimist who's long since abandoned all hope of happiness - no, far from it - but he'd hardly refer to himself as optimistic, and he wouldn't dare consider that a shame. If somebody's going to chase joy by clinging to lies, then so be it, but he'd rather mire himself in reality and try to eke out a living there. For those who consider love a form of magic, then he supposes he'd have to tell them that he's given up on that, too, but that sounds so awful and cold that even he can't bring himself to say it when everything he does becomes romance, regardless of whether or not he means for it to. The beauty of that which is fake presents itself in such a way that even he, evidently, cannot it, though he often thinks he would quite like to. There's something oddly poetic about struggling against love, however, and that, in and of itself, is another fictitious act. (Fairytales, he concedes, are ineluctable.)

This couple, once - if - he learns enough about them to understand, is only further proof of his personal conclusion. For now, with his limited knowledge, he can only assume that they're in some form of relationship, given the wedding bands and familiarity. He'd not dare to suggest it, however, acutely aware of how many times his suppositions have been proven false by his inability to keep his mouth shut. Instead, hands in pockets and followed, this time, by two friendly-looking dogs (Flintlock has an abundance of them, and he's seldom seen without them nowadays), Lupin approaches the duo easily, breath forming clouds in front of him. "I'm pretty sure you have to be insane to come here willingly," he says with a shrug, mouth slanting upwards in a lopsided grin. There are far warmer, less-treacherous, easier-to-access places to head, and those that approach Flintlock as a first choice are a special breed, the only sort that can truly survive here. (That being said, he knows nothing of their motivations. They could be here to pass on a message.) "What brings you both here?"