rubyregret

[rubyregret]

obsessed with this movie

[rubyregret]

there was a harrowing dread that coiled in her stomach , a feeling she was certain her mother had felt many times before whenever josephine would come to ask questions of hope. questions of doubt in the way things were . questions , questions , questions . how to tenderly address ones lack of acknowledgement for the truth was a feat josephine did not possess the skillset for . her lips twitched , her brows furrowed , and suddenly there wasn't enough space between herself and the other — taking a large , notable step to the side as she turned her head over her shoulder ; looking now behind her instead in any of the directions she had been focused on prior .

" it is not a matter of hope , " josephine shrugged , keeping her voice low , as if attempting to sample her tone to see if it was fitting before allowing it to reach the other's ears . alas , she hadn't accounted for the emptiness between them — nothing but the air to catch her syllables , no means of dampening their weight .

" — it is a matter of will , and not our own , but the will of whomever brought us here . it was with purpose , us finding that tree . a conscious choice made by one much bigger than all of us . to test them , to think we can outsmart them with precautions and careful footing , would be a lethal feat that would only speed up what seems to be an otherwise , , , intentional process . "

josephine squeezed her eyes tight , and when she spoke this time , it was her mother steering her tongue ; " to think we are capable of more than any almighty being , let them be monsters or gods , is foolish . all we can do is hope when our time comes we are found worthy of salvation . "

while it was understandable—remaining realistic in a place like this—she couldn’t help but feel that the pessimism accompanying such a mindset wasn’t particularly helpful. then again, she wasn’t exactly the most optimistic person herself. back in the real world, she had always relied on logic and practicality, a grounded approach that had once defined her. but six months here had changed her in ways she hadn’t fully grasped yet.

she disagreed with them, fundamentally. still, she had no desire to prod or provoke. the last thing they needed was to fall into petty squabbles when survival demanded unity. yet, a part of her itched to understand the reasoning behind their no-nonsense truth, to pick apart the mindset that left so little room for hope.

“i think there are precautions we can take,” she began carefully, her voice measured but not without conviction. “to make sure it doesn’t happen again. look after each other. hold everyone accountable when rules are broken...” her words faltered as she trailed off, the weight of her thoughts pressing on her. she hoped she made sense, that her perspective might be heard without sparking contention.

“i just don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying to stay hopeful,” she added softly, her gaze steady but tinged with vulnerability.

[rubyregret]

" does death ever feel right ?? " josephine found herself inquiring , though there wasn't a cynical bite to her words . instead , they seemed to almost possess a flicker of whimsy — the question floating along the breeze as if it were nothing more than a mere curiosity as opposed to being an existential observation . her tone was dull , lilting only with the punctuation that finalized her thought , charcoal eyes fixated — focused — on where emerson's physical body had been left to rot .

josephine could feel the younger's eyes on her , the inquisitiveness that held her stare firm and made jo's skin flare with an almost embarrassed warmth . " i think everyone , and everything , can feel anger , " josephine said carefully , pressing her palms against her own ribs , feeling the cage of bone's strain as struggling lungs pressed against it . " — maybe both. monsters playing with their food. perhaps they find it amusing . " leave it to monsters to have bad table manners .

of all the things she seen and learned in this place, one thing she has yet to get used to was the different ways people see this place. some are hopeful to get out but then there were a few, like jo, who had a totally different outlook of this place, one that seemed way more morbid than charlie wanted to believe. "i mean, i guess. death is a part of life but what happened to her... it feels wrong." she's seen what those things can do, but this seemed different. emerson was just sat there, as if they left her there waiting for them to find her.

she looks at jo at her curiosity. she could have a point there. an example for them? could that be why they left her out? maybe it was to show them that they didn't know everything about this place like they thought. it wasn't just them waiting for someone to step outside and attack them and leave their bodies for the morning. those things could think and plan and do something like this. "can they feel anger?" she asks absently. "or are they just bored with us and wanted to play a game?"

[rubyregret]

BLOOD ; ruby wine made of fruit that only grew from the tree of life . the very thing that both kept her alive and haunted her most frenzied memories . the preserver of existence , of organ vitality — its spillage almost always sacred , scarlet ink permanently soiling whatever it touched . the physical evidence could always be washed away but it was its memory that carried on .

no one ever forgot seeing blood .

leaning in curiously , josephine dropped her gaze down to the pages the librarian fiddled with , listening to the droned words that came from moving lips as if she were tuned in to some morbid radio station .

wonder burned in her chest , fascination making her full lips parted as she heaved a sigh ; " oh , " was all she had to offer in response , the sound of the fused pages rustling as they were tampered with pricking her skin with goose bumps .

the question catches josephine off guard , scrunching her brows as if she is surprised it had been asked . " no , don't fix it , " she replied , shaking her head , straightening her spine as if she had just been asked whether or not she had committed a crime . guilt gripped her sternum , clinging to her like an old friend in need of reassurance . she swallowed the glass that was stuck in her throat .

" did you know them ?? " josephine finds herself asking , curiosity wielding ruthless control over her tongue . " — the hennehas ?? "

ELM'S EXPRESSION TWISTS AT THE ANSWER . they stare at the book infinitely harder . the library wasn't infinite . it was filled with the books that were there before and the ones that were donated . ones that people brought with them and decided they didn't need anymore . ones that people died having and definitely didn't need anymore . the books told stories in more ways than one . stories of loss . of losing one's way . but the books didn't know that . they were innocent . but based on the stories that they've told before elm makes an executive decision with a nod . " it's blood ." elm turns the book around and studies the back, reading over the summary for perhaps the dozenth time . they've read nearly every book in this library a dozen times . it only takes a bit of effort to remember each one . it's with a furrow of their brows that they try to jog their own memory, to remember not only the narrative but the story that comes with it . " the hennehas brought it ." elm tries to gently pry the pages apart with their tweezers again, words distracted as they go through the motions . " they died together . in their house ." their brows twitch closer together in concentration . " they like to be neat but they aren't always ." elm doesn't elaborate on who 'they' are . they don't think they should have to . " when it was the hennehas turn they bled on a lot of their things ." a pause before elm shrugs, abandons the tweezers again and adds, " they had a lot of books . i packed them up ." elm runs a thumb over the stain on the pages, feeling where the pages have become wrinkled from soaking up the liquid . from soaking up the pain . " ... i wonder if it remembers ." the words are hushed and almost absent . the body remembers, elm knows . but the body was alive, even if it wasn't always conscious . the body kept score . but blood was life wasn't it ? soaking that into it's pages was something wasn't it ? there was life between these pages . more than usual . maybe it's special for it . she wonders if it remembers . elm's brows knit tighter together . there is another beat where elm's fingers brush over the ridges of the worn paper before they're abruptly asking, " you want me to fix it ?" elm feels almost reluctant to do so now . the book tells two stories . it lives . there are so few books to do that . it feels like a waste .

[rubyregret]

josephine's lips twisted at the question , hands burying themselves deeper within her coat , fingers splayed over flaring rips as she drank in slow and plentiful breaths . each inhale was concentrated , each exhale exercising restraint as it prevented speech from being carried on it . words were heavy , their meaning important , and so the brunette focused intently on her thoughts for a moment in order to ensure she kept her responses proper ; somewhat aimeable .

or at least honest .

" no , " came her curt reply , short and to the point , returning her stare to the stranger's for a moment before opting instead to look past her — over her shoulder , down the asphalt road and through the mist that always seemed to roll over it .

josephine's eyes then returned to the site where the body had been , nose wrinkling in some semblance of disgust ; uncertainty . josephine knew death itself better than any individual that resided in oblitus — but that didn't mean she enjoyed their companionship . jo often questioned its embrace , its intentions ; the reaper so fantastical at times it was hard to accept they were a real being , even when their handiwork was so prevalent in this town . in the world . " i didn't know her at all , and given how death treated her , i'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing . "

curiously eyeing the stranger , blinking slowly , josephine knotted her brows . then , threading the question carefully ; " what about you ?? "

— IT is a strange thing to mourn someone you've never met , and yet even in this , greer is selfish . empathy had never been her strongest suit , and while she had wept upon hearing the news of the death of a townsperson , it was not with grief , but fear ; a fear for herself , for what her fate might be . fear that death's hunger would not be sated with just one , that this was only the beginning . fear that death is the only way to escape this cursed town . lost in thought for too long , greer finds she has wandered closer to the site at which the body was found , and that she is not the only one to be stuck in the labyrinth of their mind . she clears her throat before she can stop herself , before she can realize that not all were strangers to the deceased , that some may be in mourning . greer avoids the confused look from the stranger , unsure of her own goals as well , and instead stares at the same point the other had been watching previously . tension becomes evermore present in her shoulders at the words spoken , unsure what should be said , what she should do in a situation like this . comfort could not be offered by a stranger , at least not in greer's eyes , and so she offers the only thing any good reporter has at her disposal at any given moment : too many questions . “ did you know her well ? ”

[rubyregret]

josephine's tongue presses to the back of her teeth , spongey pink aiming to push between the cracks as she refrains from making such a heartless remarks in regard to the woman's death . eyes remain trained on the site where emerson had been , corpse hardly cooled when she was happened upon . josephine had been cooped up in her room at the motel , cheek flush to the window , breath fogging the glass with condensation ; a hand feathering the pane as if trying to lure the monster's into her view like tempting a bull with a scarlet flag .

taste my flesh and my sin , her fingers would spell out as they wove the drafty air of her residence between them , breaths short .

josephine's expression soured for a quick moment , wearing a detest for the vow made by the other for a flicker of a second before it melted away ; back to neutrality .

" it will happen again , " josephine said in counter , lips buzzing like static , a slow inhale of breath followed by an even more drawn out exhale that shuddered as it clung to the air in a small plume of mist . " — and we cannot do anything to stop it . to promise such a thing would be cruel . "

a bit quieter , hushed as if spoken to herself — a prayer ; " the reaper will come to collect us all , eventually . "

her lashes flutter as her gaze drops to the spot where the grass lies flattened. the carrion’s remains had sunk into the soil, the earth already bearing the imprint of its burden. when it came to animals, death was harder for maude to process. humans, on the other hand—she’d grown desensitized to their loss, and this place, with its cuse, had only deepened that emotional numbness. in time, she too would fade into the landscape—a forgotten patch of grass where growth faltered, her body buried beneath it, lost to memory.

"yeah⸺" her response is brief, a small, curt nod of commiseration. words elude her, despite the undeniable truth that the world had lost someone so beautiful. tragedy had become a fixture in their new existence, so deep in their daily lives that it was too easy to grow indifferent to it. death here, it seemed, was inescapable.

maude's eyes flash towards jo, an instant of agreement passing by as the wind carries between the locks of her shoulder length hair. she struggles with offering the kind of sentimental comfort that others seem to find so naturally. instead, she clings to what she knows. “it shouldn’t have happened,” she says, her voice firm, the weight of logic anchoring her words. the town’s rigid rules were supposed to prevent such things, but now that they had failed, what did that mean for their future? “but we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

[rubyregret]

a flicker of a smile , like that of a flashing bulb , graced her porcelain features as she sank into the chair he had invited her to occupy . jo pressed the lip of the beer bottle to her own , rolling it so the amber glass clicked against her teeth . the smell of the ale infiltrated her nostrils , hoppy and aromatic , and she wrinkled her nose in response . she then nodded as he found her answer agreeable , wondering if she'd be invited to take her leave. . . until he was producing another question , her cheeks rouging as she dragged canines along the lower pillow of her lips .

" not really , " she exhaled , lowering the bottom from her mouth to rest its cool glass against the warmth bleeding from her face down her neck. her gaze found the bend of her knees , the hand not cradling the beverage picking at one of the tears in her jeans , twisting the frayed denim around the pad until it puckered from the pressure. not wanting to talk about herself , knowing there wouldn't be much of interest there , jo found something else to bring up instead . " sad what happened to that emerson girl , " josephine offered quietly , frowning . " i know death is commonplace in. . . this place , but , something about hers felt — " she lifted her eyes to the ceiling , as if the word she wanted would be imprinted upon it .

" odd . "

Lucas purses his lips but nods.

"I get it, though I don't really understand it. I like some quiet."

Some people would say he likes it too much, but that's not important.

"So anything you want to share? It's been a minute since we caught up."

[rubyregret]

the library was as much of a solace as one could find when they were a spirit tethered to purgatory ( forever grateful to the reaper for allowing such an establishment to exist here , though perhaps it had been an intentional , purposeful inclusion ; encouragement to better oneself through the means of research , education , and literature. . . ) . oftentimes , josephine would wander in here after her tasks and disappear amongst the shelves , one with the shadows as she furled her frame in the furthest corner to delve into a novel — even if she found herself incapable of reading the words on the page .

her exposure to books had been minimal growing up ; a bible , some other varying religious texts , a couple tampered textbooks and her mother's own spiritual documents from years past. . . but HERE ?? the limit ceased to exist , shelves stacked with titles varying from nonfiction to pure pornography . sometimes even just holding a book was enough , fanning through the dusted pages of faded texts . she particularly loved finding ones with annotations ; reading what others had learned , wondering where they had been when they had written them .

though one particular book she had stumbled upon appeared to have had pages glued together. . . and josephine had attempted to investigate it herself, make out what had unified the pages . the bondage seemed to have been oxidized. . . what it was , exactly , she wasn't sure — so she had headed towards the front to bring it to one of the librarian's attentions . the face behind the counter was familiar ; curious looking . from the furrow of her brows , to the intense way she observed the book's damage , to the meticulous manipulating of tweezers. . . despite her gentle approach , her methodical handling , jo felt uneasy . her question made the girl feel as if she was being interrogated , her breath shuddering as she slowly exhaled .

" not sure ," she replied , folding one arm around her middle whilst the other lifted to her lips , picking at the dry skin that protruded from the bottom one . " i found it like that . i don't know how it happened . "

STATUS : closed for @rubyregret ! LOCATION : the library !

IT WAS NICE TO BE BACK AT WORK AGAIN . elm had missed it . although their time off was meant to be time to rest, elm wasn't quite sure how much rest they actually got . they spent most of that time thinking over the gaps in their memory, trying to fit blurry blocks into foggy spaces and hoping for the best . it was frustrating . it made their head hurt . but the library soothed all that . the smell of books, the feeling of them in her hands as she handled them . it was familiar . and familiar was good . nice . elm sinks into it like an old friend even with all of the mysteries going on . outside of this building someone is cleaning emerson's blood off the concrete . but right now elm can focus on repairing the novel in their hands . that's enough . it has to be . " ... do you think this is blood or mud ?" elm opens the book on the library desk for the examination of the next, or really only, person in line . she points to the stain on the novel's pages . it's bleed through several of them . elm just barely managed to get them to stop sticking together with a well utilized pair of tweezers . it's a beat before their brows furrow as they study the stain . " ... it's different to get it out depending on which ."

[rubyregret]

josephine looks to erin's hands as if they are that of a GODS , her doll-like features possessing a fused look of both wonder and mild terror . erin was powerful in her own right , reminding josephine of the very divine beings she was meant to impress — but erin was of flesh , or at least seemed to be. . . meanwhile gods were celestial , all-powerful beings ; that is why it was them they served . yet , here it seemed one walked among them . what would her mother have said ??

there was so little about oblitus that josephine knew , and even less she understood .

stepping back and away from the woman's extension of kindness , josephine pressed her lower spine against the edge of the counter , blinking as if through a haze to see the woman's face clearer . despite stepping away , she had extended her hands as requested — palms up , as if in offering . " i don't feel it , " josephine informed her , riding the coattail of erin's well-blanketed concern , a shameful flush beginning to crawl up the sides of her swan-like neck . it wasn't a lie ; she hadn't felt it . " i'm alright . they're fine . really , erin , it's. . . it's nothing . "

erin could still remember the day josephine had shown herself through the mist in oblitus. she could remember the blood on the other girls palms, could see her wide eyes full of fear each time erin remembered meeting josephine for the first time. erin had never asked where josephine had come from - to erin, it hadn't really mattered at the time because now josephine was here, and here was a hell of a lot worse than wherever she had been. at least, erin hoped deep down that had been the case.

this place had been erin's nightmare since coming here, but if she ever found out that others might feel differently than her, it would truly throw her for a loop. what could possibly be worse than this?

seeing josephine continue to struggle, seeing her try and still break beneath her own thoughts and memories, reminded erin of her own struggle with grief and being in oblitus. erin tries to reconcile it with herself; tells herself that she sees potential in josephine, that she doesn't feel sorry for her like she feels sorry for most everyone in oblitus, but its difficult still. difficult still when there is a tug each time she sees someone young living out their lives here - reminds herself that she was young once too when she found her way here...

there is a thin line between them, truly. echoes of erin's own thoughts seem to be echoed within josephine and, often times, its like looking at a mirror in some ways. she can see grief there too - which is why she extends an olive branch; erin is incapable of letting someone suffer by themselves. the least she could do is keep them company whilst they go through it, she tells herself.

and josephine seems to be going through it.

"josephine," she cautions, watching the steam rise from the water in the sink, eye widening as the girl once again places her hands beneath. they turn red and raw from the scalding temperature but josephine seems to be in some kind of trance and erin cautions to break her from it for a second before the other girl is turning and questioning her; it's too late to hide the evidence from erin. her gaze softens at the question, and erin finds her hands reaching forward, hesitating between them. "let me see," she requests, her demand hidden behind years of practice long forgotten, when a boy was twelve and she still frequently got to use her 'mom-voice.'

[rubyregret]

josephine's face did something close to softening upon seeing the other ; a younger individual , both in age and how long she had been one among them in oblitus . empathy was something she had been taught , but she questioned often if she truly felt it ; being able to resonate with another's emotions . josephine hardly knew her own sentiments , let alone how to share the burden of grief or the delight of joy with someone else .

" it can be sad , " josephine sighed in response , sandwiching her palms beneath biceps as she pushes hands deep into the fabric of her unzipped hoodie . " — but death . . . it is part of this , isn't it ?? " of purgatory , she meant . technically , they had already abandoned their living bodies , their souls now tethered to this place - the in between . were they really dying here or were their deaths being completed ??

jo nodded slowly , rolling her lips together , marinating on the observation she too had been having about emerson's body . as natural as death was , there was something odd about this one — peculiar . " perhaps whoever did it was trying to set an example for the rest of us , " josephine offered after a moment of palpable silence . the reaper did love their lessons . " maybe she did something to anger them . too bad we cannot ask her . "

it's officially been a month since charlie was taken from her home and some how brought here but it didn't get any easier. halloween was a fun escape but the scene they walked out to the next normal was just a reminder of where they were and that no one was safe. she only knew emerson in passing, she was the one who supplied the town with cigarettes, she knew that much. she wished she knew her better but now she was gone. those things having propped her up like some doll. by everyone's reactions, she knew that couldn't be normal for them.

seeing jo staring at the place where she was left, charlie wondered if she was mourning or just trying to piece together what happened. "hi," she says when she has her attention. "yeah, it's always sad when we lose someone." she thinks back to the storm that happened right after she arrived and the amount of people they lost that night. she didn't know any of them, but this was her first that she did know even if it wasn't well. "weird how she was left like that. i still don't know much about this place, but that doesn't feel right."

[rubyregret]

𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝘧𝘵 𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘪𝘯

the faucet water was warm as it ran over josephine's aching hands , the muscles cramped from meticulously tending to whatever task or lesson it was that erin had been teaching her . jo tried her best to retain it all , the information , using every effort and neuron her brain had to offer in order to remember each detail . . . but , often times , she found that the words the other woman spoke were as lost as her mind . like they were taken by the very mist that had brought her here .

slowly , she washed ; soap suds clogging the dips between her fingers , soaking under her nails , filling the lines in her palms . josephine knew well that as often as she washed her hands , they never felt truly clean , and it took erin speaking up from behind her to remind herself that she was not in the daze she felt herself to be in ; but the other's office .

" sorry , " josephine apologized , suddenly feeling winded , quickly rinsing the remainder of the soap before finally turned off the water and turning to face the woman . it was only now she realized the water hadn't been warm , but scalding , the fair flesh of her hands and fingers scorched red and pulsing . how long had she been doing that ?? quickly tucking her hands behind her back , she furrowed her brows ; " i'm sorry i — i didn't hear you. . . what did you say ?? "

@horrorismx

[rubyregret]

a twitch of her lips , followed by the twisting of her nose , josephine turned to the basket of cleaning supplies on the counter , setting down the beer she had been handed in favor of rearranging the plastic bottles and cut towels she used for her daily tasks . " that i can agree with , " she nodded , a reluctance in finding more common ground , meticulously twisting each of the sprayers nozel's from ON to OFF .

in the silence , josephine find's her eyes returning over her shoulder in his direction , noticing the invitation to have a seat . to relax . to stay a while .

dread coiled in her stomach , and she swallowed hard ; it'd be rude not to accept his offer , just as it would have been to turn down the beverage . with slow and weighted steps , josephine moved into the living room , using the cuff of her zip-up to twist off the cap of the beer she had returned to her grasp ; a hiss sounding from the carbonation as she sank her weight into the worn furniture .

" as good as one can be , " she replied simply , lifting pointed shoulders into a shrug . " the motel is . . . fine . sometimes it's noisy but . . . i often prefer noise to silence . somehow it feels safer . " knowing the people around me are alive , she added on in her thoughts .

Lucas takes a seat on the couch and sips his beer. He considers the question and how to respond.

"I guess there's hardly ever a simple way to do things here. For as small as the community is, there's a lot to consider."

He gestures to a chair across from him for her to sit. Sunset is still a few hours away, so there's no rush to get her home.

"How have you been? Everyone at the motel treating you alright?"

He's a bit protective over Jo since he was the one who saved her from getting killed by the creatures. A good deed someone had done for him that he now passed on and maybe will have to do again.

[rubyregret]

lucas seemed to move as if through water , possessing a fluidity she herself had never known . any stiffness that may , or may not , be holding his muscles captive was not obvious to the naked eye , and jo felt a pang of unease resonate in her chest as something resembling jealousy burned through her . if only it were that simple — merely existing in a space and not fearing how much of it you took up .

what she knew of men was very little , her two years in oblitus doing hardly anything to further educate her . what she did know was in PURGATORY , all were equal . he and her both , collectively , hung in the balance . at least that was one thing they had in common .

her lungs trembled , exhaling a quivering breath . " right , " josephine then offered as a response , half-attempting to work a smile on her face but her muscles seeming to have lost all knowledge of the expression . thick brows furrowed deeper at the beer he extended to her , lips rolling into a line , the leftward corner twitching as if she were about to scowl . then , tentatively , she reached out and accepted it — though she made no move to drink from the ambered glass .

" what do you mean by that ?? " her curiosity inquired , steering her tongue before she could stop it . " — always something to do but. . . never a way to do them . there's a way to do everything , is there not ?? "

Lucas is surprised to see her still here, but he smiles when he takes it in.

"It's all okay," he responds. "I'm honestly back earlier than I thought I would be."

He hangs his coat in the closet near the door and carefully lines his shoes in it as well.

"My day was okay," he says, walking toward the kitchen. "There's always something to do and no way to actually do them."

He pulls a couple of beers out of his fridge. He really only drinks when he has company. He walks back and holds out a bottle to Jo.

[rubyregret]

𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝘧𝘵 𝘭𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢

her hands smelt of cleaning product and bleach , the skin of her fingers dry and tight from the chemicals it had absorbed. her hair was an unruly tuft of brown mousse , ponytail having long since abandoned its post atop her head in favor of hanging in a flaccid rope down the length of her skin . josephine was grateful to him , for the kindness he had extended her two years ago upon her arrival ; the selfless extension of his security blanket , the nursing of her panic . as much as crossing into the threshold of purgatory had sent her into a spiral that carried over many months — josephine had accepted her circumstances , and expressed her gratitude to those who had spared her from the pendulum swing of the reaper's scythe .

" lucas , " jo greeted as the man walked through the front door , drying her hands on the towel hung from the waistband of her jeans . " i was just finishing up . wasn't supposed to take me this long but uh — something was wrong with the spray nozzle on one of the cleaners . " speech then halted , too many words coming from her lips resulting in a bashful flush crawling up her neck . " how — " josephine's gaze moved to his face , dark brows threading together as she tried to usurp the vocabulary she had stolen from the community in order to make small talk . " how was. . . your day ?? "

@patroclusblossom

[rubyregret]

scowling at the fistful of dirt she now held , josephine lifted the clump of soil and earth to her face , her gaze investigative as she rotated her wrist back and forth . her companionship with the young woman beside her had bloomed from a shared appreciation for the whispering willows and the observant oaks — and understanding that the thrum of nature's pulse was just as much a means of communication as speaking was . today , however , it seemed as if the town was in a vacuum seal save for the autumn breeze that made the trees hung & browning leaves bristle , silence emanating around them . a pause , letting the other's words sink in , before jo was talking again ;

" maybe they're mourning , " josephine offered , dismissing the comment on silence and continuing to fill it with her own jabber . " death in a place like this feels like a commonality but , i looked at her body for maybe an hour . two hours . seemed different this time . do you think they , " a wave of her hand directed towards the fading greenery around them ; " — saw it happen ?? "

there was a sketch pad sitting on her lap, pencil idly scratching over the page as she tries to remember her dream last night. the house was there again, the one she has flashes of that she can't quite tell if they were memories or something more. maybe if she can draw it, it will make more sense but she can never quite get it right. it doesn't feel right like it does in her dreams. hearing jo's voice beside her, she looks up from the page. she had almost forgotten she wasn't sitting out here alone. "maybe they just don't have anything to tell us right now," she says simply, looking at the other girl. she thought back to the things elm's mother would tell the two of them when they were kids. "but silence can tell us things as well. we need to wait." halloween didn't pass by without issue, perhaps something big was coming. this place was revving up for something, just what that was, she wasn't sure.

[rubyregret]

𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝘧𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦

josephine stood on the curb with the toes of her boots just barely hanging over its edge , balancing on the balls of her feet . denim-encased arms wrapped around her slender frame , a means of self soothing , as her misty gaze concentrated leftward towards the town center where emerson's body had been found the night prior .

it wasn't that jo was unmoved by her passing , not necessarily , but in purgatory ( as well as life ) , death was the inevitable means to an end . the people of oblitus could only hang in the in balance for so long — eventually , the reaper would come for them all . josephine's brows furrowed together , lips curling inwards to press into a fine line , gaze slightly narrowing as if trying to see through space & time to witness emerson's dance with the reaper first hand .

the clearing of a throat gave her a start , jumping , as if she had been yanked out of a hypnosis by the snapping of fingers . josephine's face flew to her right , meeting the eyes of who appeared to be looking for her attention , head cocking like that of a confused feline as the bridge of her nose scrunched . she took a step back , feet now fully flat on the sidewalk .

" hello , " her voice felt raw , like she had swallowed shards of glass . her shoulders loosened , sinking from where they had shot up to her ears . jo sighed , stare returning back to where the cooled corpse had been just hours earlier ; " — sad what happened to her . "

[rubyregret]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬 , 𝐰𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 . 𝙛𝙩. 𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙢𝙖 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣

delicate fingers splayed in the grass beneath where josephine sat , dark eyes fixated on the blades as she wove them between ballerina hands as if she were spinning silk . the wind tossed her hair as it pushed past , rousing the strands as they feathered the flushed apple of her cheek and entangled themselves in the wisps of thick lashes , lips puckered as she glowered at the silence .

" they're quiet today , " came josephine's voice , a quiet & mournful song , pressing the curves of nails into the dirt & feeling the snapping of roots as she curled them beneath the earth's plush carpet . disappointment weighed heavy on the sigh she exhaled , head tilting side to side , before she was clenching her fist & pulling up the dirt with a sharp YANK . knuckles blanched from how hard jo clenched her fingers , a scowl dirtying otherwise pleasant features ;

" — i HATE when they're quiet . "

@frommarama