#feat. perry h.k.

[ptolomeas]

CLOSED STARTER .ᐟ @ ON THE STEPS OF THE BIG HOUSE with @diamondsfromcoal, NIGHTTIME ON THE SEVENTH, AFTER THE BONFIRE.

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‏‏  THE DOORS ARE LOCKED, AND bunny can't decide whether it's a blessing or an obstacle. she's chewing on the inside of her cheeks while thinking of their earlier visit —  and she can feel herself unraveling, bit by bit, thinking of the mortal who came to a place he was not welcome. her legs are stretched down the stairs, her arms holding her up while she looks out at the camp from her vantage point. not that this place matters much to her, it isn't home so much as it's a hideout —  something that she feels like her peers can easily forget. this is not so much a place of heart - warming permanent residency. it is more a reminder of who they are and why they hide behind the mist, what's left of it. to perry, approaching the house, she says, "doors are locked," and it sounds bitter instead of as neutral as she's used to, so she coughs and says, "i think that bonfire wiped them out, or the whole —  visit  ...   well," she trails off. "do gods sleep, or do you think mr. d is just pretending?"