"Dunno yet," Saturday says, leaning back again, arms crossed behind her head. "It's - part 'a me, I don't want it to be real. Don't wanna make it that way. You know?"
It's easier to put away the closed, hot warehouse, the bodies in the circle, the pulse of Caim's heart slowing. Hold on as tight as you can and they'll slip away anyhow. No miracles this time, no precious destiny to step in and save the day. Only the heroes get that. Everyone else falls on the wayside.
Sick fucking system, any way you cut it. Makes a body wonder if the horrors don't have a point.
"We could make it a drinking game," she suggests, so it can be a joke. "Never have I ever helplessly watched a love one die, that sort of thing. At least we'll be drunk at the end, hey?"
Re: 3
It's easier to put away the closed, hot warehouse, the bodies in the circle, the pulse of Caim's heart slowing. Hold on as tight as you can and they'll slip away anyhow. No miracles this time, no precious destiny to step in and save the day. Only the heroes get that. Everyone else falls on the wayside.
Sick fucking system, any way you cut it. Makes a body wonder if the horrors don't have a point.
"We could make it a drinking game," she suggests, so it can be a joke. "Never have I ever helplessly watched a love one die, that sort of thing. At least we'll be drunk at the end, hey?"