#their height difference is slightly annoying because poses that fit are so hard to find

[kb11rd]

suddenly remembered this anime and exploded (rewatched/read the entire series I'm so normal)

[lunarliza]

Dirty Little Secret | Chapter One: Blankets

fuckbuddy!JJ x Kook!Reader 

You and JJ are fuck buddies- strictly physical. But what happens when you find yourself falling more and more for everyone’s favorite golden boy even though all he can see you as is a spoiled rich girl? 

You stared at the ticking clock among the sea of giggling preppy girls. Time had to be running in reverse. There was no way you still had an hour left. 

“Alright ladies, let’s now form a single-file line and practice our curtsies,” the cotillion instructor, Linda, ordered. The over-privileged girls hurried to the end of the ballroom, one carelessly stepping over your foot. “Ouch!” 

You glared at their backs and non-existent asses as they scurried, being the last one to sulk to your place behind a tall girl named Caroline. The leggy blonde snickered and leaned back slightly once everyone got into formation. 

“You look like a beat up mule,” she joked. 

You snorted and got on your tip-toes, muttering into her ear. “If I hear the words ‘prim and proper’ one more time, I might actually vomit on the spot.” 

You both peered over to Linda who was busy adjusting some of the girls in the front with her annoying pointer stick. It was only a matter of time before she would eventually get to you and criticize, well, everything. Your posture, clothes, hair, attitude. 

“If you do,” Caroline added, “make sure to get it all on Delilah in the front left. She totally swiped me for runner-up Miss Teen North Carolina last year.” 

You chuckled and shook your head. 

Caroline was probably the only thing getting you through these treacherous debutante lessons. She was your typical tall, thin socialite with a Benz and Prada collection to match. Ironically, you guys had more in common than one would think- hating just about every single girl in the room. It may be for different reasons, but the principle was there. Caroline was as competitive as they come and always had to be the center of attention, not that it was hard given her model height. 

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about becoming a high woman in society- evident in your ability to show up 20 minutes late to each lesson and royally screw up the dance number each chance you got. Caroline admired your talent of not giving a fuck and took a liking to you after you posed non-threatening to her spotlight. 

You faked yawned and checked the clock once more. 

“Alright I’ve had enough.” You held out your hand to Linda, causing the pageant girl in front of you to wrinkle her perfectly threaded brows. “Linda, I need to use the restroom,” you announced nonchalantly as everyone’s beetle eyes punctured you. 

“Very well y/n,” the monotonous instructor answered with her thin-framed glasses hanging on her beak nose.  

“See ya next week,” you sneakily whispered to Caroline. You proceeded to hop out of line, snatch your canvas bag at the entrance, and whisk out the door and into the busy street before anyone could see.

It was 3 p.m. on a Thursday afternoon. Your ferry left in an hour, and til then, you were ready to wander around the streets of Chapel Hill. 

                                           -----------------------------

“How were lessons today?” your mother asked, taking a sip of her 1999 Vineyard Merlot before setting the glass on the black marble table.

“Fine,” you answered, picking at the halibut on your plate. 

Her glasses were perched at the bridge of her nose as she scrolled through items on an iPad. You silently glanced over to your little sister, Macy, who slid her green beans onto your plate and threw you a thankful grin. 

“What did you go over?” your stepdad, Ted, asked half-heartedly as he scrolled through his phone. 

“Uh, we did some curtsies and practiced the dance,” was all you cared to mention as you munched on your sister’s veggies. 

“That’s funny,” your mother lifted her eyes from the screen, “because Linda called and said you went to the restroom and mysteriously disappeared. And you were late.” Her tone was much more adamant at the second part, but your face stayed cool as you took another bite of the awful fish. 

“There was backup when I left the ferry,” you lied and your mother rolled her eyes, tossing the iPad onto the table. 

“Y/n, you need to take this seriously. Ted spent weeks trying to get you into those debutante lessons and we’re paying a fortune for Linda alone!” 

“It’s not my fault she has a stick up her ass just like everyone else there,” you countered. Your mom was seconds away from fuming, so you decided to add a little extra fuel. “Also someone stepped on my foot with their heel so I had to rest it or else I wouldn’t be able to properly do the dance.” 

“Enough of this, y/n,” your mother snapped at your terrible sarcasm. Macy and Ted stopped eating and watched you both with hints of concern. You didn’t understand why it was so startling to them. It was just any other Thursday evening with your mom if you were being honest. 

“If I get another call from Linda, we’re taking away your keys.” 

“Take them,” you said, stepping up from your chair and towards the kitchen. You tossed the half-eaten food into the trash and stuffed the plate into the dishwasher. “Not like I have anywhere better to be on this God-awful island.” 

You rushed to your room upstairs and kicked the door shut behind you. You sank into your bed, face first, and let out the longest, dreadful groan into the comforter. 

This was your life now. After almost a year, you would think that you’d adjust to this pretentious Kook life, but it only made you feel more stranded than ever. It started when your real parents announced their divorce a few years back. Both yours and Macy’s hearts shattered at the news. Your family lived perfectly in a tiny home until you turned thirteen. Your dad- the one who taught you how to ride a bike, swim, fish, and play poker- got a new job where he would go overseas for months on end. You hated not being able to see him and your mom hated it even more- enough to leave him. Your mom ended up taking full custody of you and Macy. Soon after, she met money-bags Ted, and, before you knew it, your bags were sealed packed as you sailed away to a fancy new home along Figure Eight complete with housekeepers, a pool, and etiquette lessons. It was supposed to be this “better lifestyle” your mother tried to paint into your head- but you saw right through it. No matter how green the grass or white the fence, you still felt like you were being locked up on an island you had no interest in exploring. 

Making new friends was also a hassle- first coming in as a high school sophomore, and then not knowing how to engage in Kook-speak with the others. It’s not your fault you weren’t well-versed in luxury cars and handbags. You had one or two friends, but spent most of your days alone. It was well past midnight when you caught yourself drowning in your own self-loathing thoughts. A sudden tap on your window startled you as you turned to find a familiar blonde boy struggling to lift the glass. You watched, unimpressed, as he finally got it open enough to slide his lean body in and land straight onto your window seat. 

“You’re late again, JJ,” you said, getting up to lock your door. 

“Phone died and there’s a guard on duty, so I had to come in through the long way,” JJ stated, plopping himself comfortably on your bed. 

He wore his usual fit- dark cargo shorts and a navy button-up with hardly anything buttoned. He reeked of weed and seawater, wearing a sleazy grin on his face. You wanted to swipe it off. Cocky bastard. 

“For the last time,” you retorted, kicking his feet off your white blankets, “no shoes on my fucking bed.” 

“I love when you talk dirty to me,” JJ snarkily replied as he slipped off his boots.   

This was JJ: your fuck buddy. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly why you were involved with this delinquent of a boy, but he was enough piss off your mom and Ted- not that you would ever tell them. You didn’t know what it was about him, but causally sleeping with JJ made you feel more in control of your life. So, once or twice a week, you two would meet up, do the deed, and go your separate ways without a word. No strings, no feelings, hell, not even a friendship. And not a single soul knew. You both understood the terms of your agreement and will stand by it until the day you both die. “Are you just gonna stand there and stare or are we gonna get to clapping cheeks? I don’t have all night dude,” JJ nagged, interrupting you from your thoughts. 

You flipped him off. “If someone showed up during their regularly scheduled time, I would have had a lot more energy.” You peeled off your cropped tee to reveal a lacy black bralette and climbed into his lap. His hands cupped the globes of your ass before sliding them into your shorts, mouth connecting with your neck. 

“Let’s make this quick,” he added between short breaths, “I have to meet some friends in an hour.” 

-----------------------------

chapter two

[silvcrlining]

founder’s day festival: finley’s entry

Though Finley never stops by the Pelican Town’s Founder Day Festival-- can’t really bring themself to--, that doesn’t mean they didn’t submit an entry for the art display. It was a decision they had made long before everything that went down in the Valentine’s Dance; plus, after a year of living in the valley, they had accumulated a hefty amount of photos. They wanted to do something good with them. So their entry hangs up in the exhibition: a series of portraits, with a plaque beneath them all that reads Faces of the Valley.

The sun is just rising over the trees in Cindersap Forest, over the top of a familiar van, and Sloane is caught mid-smirk, a teasing glint in faer eyes as fae reach faer tea cup out to clink it against the photographer’s cup, barely visible in the lower left-hand corner of the photo.

There’s a lone piano in the airport. The giant windows in the foreground are blurred, but the raging storm outside is visible. Even then, it’s easy to miss when the subject of the photo seems to capture all the attention: Ben, sitting at the piano bench, hands frozen over the keys. He doesn’t seem to notice someone’s taking his photo, and the look on his face is peaceful, calm.

Any picture of Koa in Finley’s reel is more often than not barely catching his blurry form. At the summer extravaganza, however, you bet he wants his knight costume to be immortalized through photography. He stands near the stage, chest puffed out, grinning wide, striking the most heroic pose he can (Finley made sure to add an extra shine to his suit while editing). In the back, Lizzie is trying to jump into the frame, waving at the photographer in her poofy princess dress.

Lizzie gets her own portrait, though. It’s after one of her and Finley’s training sessions. Her ponytail is slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed from running, but it seems like she set a new best running time, because she has her arms thrown in the air, eyes wide and mouth curled into a bright smile. She barely looks tired.

Some of the valley kids gather in front of the library after a day of school. Some stick their tongues out, others flash toothy smiles; meanwhile, Alex crouches behind them to level their height differences out, the look on his face somewhere between content and amused at the kids’ antics.

It’s nighttime, deep in a small clearing in the forest. There’s a scattering of camping tents set up in the background. In front of them, Henry sits on a log, a thick blanket wrapped around his shoulders, a cup of cocoa cradled in his hands. The campfire in front of him washes him in warm light. Although tired, the light shows in his eyes, which shine as gently as the shy smile on his face.

Kiran sits under a tree by the town, a picnic blanket splayed out beneath him and a sketchbook propped up on his lap. It seems like he was previously entranced with whatever he was drawing before Finley made him look up. His gaze is focused on the camera lens, a brow raised slightly, but the corners of his lips are raised slightly, pencil still pressed to the page.

The next portrait overlooks the ocean by the pier. There’s a lone boat floating along the water with two figures sitting inside. Willy, the fishing shop owner, isn’t paying attention to the camera; he has his fishing line tossed over the edge and is staring intently at the water in heavy concentration. Jemma, however, is not as focused; she practically leans over the boat, frozen in mid-ecstatic-wave towards the photographer, mouth open as if she was yelling out a greeting.

Matty stares at the screen of the only working arcade game in the Saloon, a picture of utter focus, his hands slightly blurred from whatever quick movement he was doing along the controls of the game. There’s a half-empty Joja Cola can propped up precariously beside the controls, and yes-- that is the renowned Pizza Slut hat sitting proudly on his head. Kiran is visible in the back, playing a game of pool with Malia-- though he seems more focused on Matty than anything else.

Malia isn’t looking at the camera. Instead, her head is thrown back in a laugh, an arm spread over the back of her couch. Her other hand is petting her cat, Salem, who is curled up in her lap. There’s a bottle of wine on the side-table and the sun is just beginning to set, the golden hour rays peeking in through the windows, casting the house in yellow light. For a moment, the house doesn’t look like a museum of memories; it just looks like a home. Malia looks happy.

Anya looks like an absolute natural on stage. The light from the disco ball glitters beautifully against her as she looks out at the crowd, clad in her skates and a charming smile. Behind her, her proposal for a roller rink is projected. Even if it wasn’t the winning proposal, the portrait makes it hard to ignore how easily she can capture anyone’s attention.

Art... really likes apples, huh? Did anyone else know that? His portrait is the definition of happiness, the grin across his face endearing as he reaches out towards the apple the photographer is holding out, visible at the bottom of the frame. The farm looms in the background behind him. Lizzie once again tries to sneak into the photo from a distance.

Sofia tilts her head at the camera, a small simper on her lips as she stands behind the counter of the library, hands placed neatly on top of its surface. Half of her hair is tied up in two buns on either side of her head. In front of her, there’s a notebook scribbled to the margins with words and, beside it, there’s a stack of books. Are they reserved for someone? There’s a sticky note on top that reads: for Elaine.

Sasha’s portrait is probably the most professional-looking, if only because it’s the only one that was planned-- she needed photos for her Instagram, and Finley needed more pictures in their portfolio. It was a begrudging agreement. Sasha leans back against a fence that overlooks the wide open space in front of the farms. The sun is shining, wind blowing gently through her hair as she looks off in the distance. Even if she’s posing, there’s an unmistakably pensive look in her eyes.

Dakota crouches on the forest floor, a wooden sign near them warning passerby's not to tread near. Their brows are creased in concentration, though it looks like they’re almost trying not to notice the camera-- which is exactly what had happened. “It’s for a festival entry! Just... act natural! Study the dirt or something, you know-- look academic.”

It’s after the General Store has finally reigned victorious over Joja Mart. Elaine is in charge of helping prepare the store for its reopening, but she’s taking a break at the time the picture is taken. She sits on the back of her ✨ truck ✨, the remnants of her finished snack beside her. She seems to be entranced in a book, a rare look of contentment washing over her face as her eyes dart across the pages. It’s hard to make out the cover of the book-- something by Stephen King.

Archie stands outside of the Saloon, leaning against one of the walls as a cigarette hangs from her lips, her bag slung over her shoulder. One of the outside lights shines down on her, given that it’s already well into nighttime. The look she gives the camera is dull, unimpressed. Finley must have said something really charming at the right time, however, because there’s a hint of something lighter coloring her features-- a gentle amusement.

The flower shop takes center stage... almost. Thalia commands attention, though; the small girl is almost a blur of movement as she’s caught mid-skip towards the camera. There’s a lemonade stand behind her, and she no doubt has a practiced script to get Finley to buy some. Gabe waits by the stand, hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze focused on his daughter; the love in his eyes is clear as day.

Finley doesn’t know Arden that well, but they find her outside of the General Store, and the light is hitting her just right, so it’d be a shame not to capture the moment. Arden only notices the camera after the photo has been taken. in her portrait, she’s too busy looking through the flyers pinned up on the bulletin board. Finley knew that look she wore all too well-- looking for a brand new start.

Iris had just finished pinning up a paper up on the bulletin board when Finley asked to take a photo. It seems like Iris had been almost too happy to oblige. In her portrait, she strikes a practiced pose, hip jutting out, a hand on her waist, head cocked to the side with a smirk. She’s wearing a puffy jacket and sunglasses perched atop her head, a combination that truly makes no sense, but her confidence radiates through the photo enough that it almost works.

Even if she’s new, Zola seems to fit in just fine at the Saloon. It’s an odd contradiction, though, because with the sweet smile stretched across her lips, she manages to stand out against the rest of the regulars loitering in the back. She seems to be in a conversation with the newest bartender, who looks sheepish but excited as she watches Zola, who’s in the middle of tossing an ice cube in the air and catching it within a shot glass. Sick moves.

Adria stands in front of her office building, smiling brightly at the camera. It had only been a few days after she arrived and was officially open for business, and that much is noticeable on her face. Her eyes are bright and enthusiastic, her smile warm and inviting. She looks hopeful. It’s the kind of hope the valley desperately needed.

There’s a softness to Jillian in this portrait that feels rare. It seems like it’s just another normal day of work at the General Store. Jillian is in the middle of organizing jam jars on the shelves, but her head is turned towards the camera. The photo captures the last remnants of what was probably an exasperated and/or annoyed glare before it was replaced by something much more simple, but just as loud-- a tiny smile.

The final photograph is the only one that has the subject facing away from the camera completely. It overlooks the ocean once again. The sky is a gentle, cloudless blue with silhouettes of birds scattered across; the water is rippling with lazy waves; the pier is empty, except for one person. At the end of the deck, Finley sits staring at the ocean, their back towards the camera, their shoes beside them. Their hair looks a lot shorter than it is now-- it was taken on their first week in the valley, when they found this spot and decided it might be worth staying here for a while.

[headhunterjosh-blog1]

“The Calm before the Storm”

Who: Leonardo and Joshua Tagged: @flynnraider @headhunterjosh What: PUNCHES. Quest on the side. Where: The Shadow Waste

Leo: Leo eyed the horizon, frowning. The townspeople really weren't kidding when they said this place was deserted. The sand stretched for as far as he could see, small burnt trees being the only thing to break up the horizon. He was starting to rethink his decision to stubbornly go this alone. It would certainly be less eery. But maybe he was wrong - as his eyes swung to the right, Leo thought he caught sight of a figure in the distance. What the hell? That could mean nothing good. Narrowing his eyes, he silently armed his bow and crept forward.

Josh: Josh hated it. Hated every second of it. He had never been a big fan of heat and easily burned under the sun, so this was practically his personal hell. At least he found comfort in being alone. The last thing he needed right now was a- an archer pointing a fucking arrow at him. Great. His hands went into the air almost on instinct. Not like he was any less reckless than he used to, but after the past few month, he realized that trying to not get shot by people should be one of his priorities. "Easy, buddy," he called out when he was close enough to the other man, "Same side." This argument didn't seem to work too well with People throwing daggers, but maybe archers were a little more sensible?

Leo: "Gesù, sorry," Leo breathed out in relief, releasing his tight grip on the bow. He wasn't expecting another player, but he was thankful it was that and not some shadow monster. The arrow went slack, tip falling to point to the ground and not the other mans skull. "I thought you might have been an NPC, not a player." Who knew what manner of creepy things were lurking in the area. But he didn't put away his bow entirely, who's to say the player was friendly? Better to keep it where he could shoot it again at a moments notice. "You're alone?"

Josh: "You're good," Joshua replied, offering a small smile as he took his hands down. He was at least as relieved as the other man, because even when he didn't mistake him for an NPC, he was well aware that other players did pose just as much as a threat, if not more. "Yeah," he tried to sound casual, but didn't take his eyes off the archer - or rather his arrow - an almost sceptical look resting on his face. "I know this quest is supposed to be a party of two kinda situation, but I figured it couldn't be too hard to do it alone. You?"

Leo: "Same. I'm not much one for people." Leo explained gruffly. "And we're just wandering the desert. Not much to it."

Josh: "Right," Josh agreed with a nod, "No need to bring a liability along." Giving the other another close look, he knitted his brows, trying to remember his name. "You're Leo, right?"

Leo: Leo raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Yesss? Have we met before?"

Josh: "I think so?" Why, why, why did he have to bring it up. God, he was dumb. "I'm Josh. Friends with Lucinda and Rafael?"

Leo: Leo narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn't comment. "Yeah. Rafael. The annoying one." But there was a hint of fondness in his tone, try as he might.

Josh: "Yeah, that one," Josh chuckled, thinking about his last quest with the vampire. "Your Sophia's brother?" His small talk was rusty to say the least, but this should be a good enough topic.

Leo: "...I am." Leo paused. "You're Sophia's friend Josh?"

Josh: "Yeah, why?"

Leo: Right. Leo took a deep breath before calmly stepping forward. He didn't even flinch, there was barely even time for Josh to see it coming. He just casually stepped forward and soundly punched him across the face, sending his head snapping to the side.

Josh: Josh turned his face slowly to look at him, holding his painfully throbbing cheek, wide eyes, mouth open in shock. He just stared at him for a moment and then, without missing a beat, he tackled him to the ground. "What the fuck is wrong with you?", he asked, voice strained as he tried to pin him down.

Leo: In hindsight Leo really should have seen that coming. He grunted as his back slammed into the ground before straining against the other man trying to force him down. "What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Heaving forward, he knocked them both back, sprawling into the dirt.

Josh: Josh gasped when Leo suddenly threw him back, hitting the ground hard. "Are you serious? You punched me in the face, that's my problem!" He snapped, struggling to get the other male off of him, their height difference making it more difficult than he'd expected.

Leo: "That was for Sophia, you asshole. Who just leaves somebody bleeding out alone?" Leo hissed back, trying to hold onto the upper hand.

Josh: Sophia. That name was enough for the memories of that night to resurface, anger rising inside. Pulling one hand free, he punched Leo square in the jaw, using the brief opportunity to roll on top of him. "What the hell are you talking about?! I protected her! I saved her!"

Leo: Leo grunted as the fist connected with his face, spitting blood out onto the sand. "Sure as hell didn't look like that when I showed up." He hooked a foot around Josh, yanking his feet from under him.

Josh: He hit the ground again, but this time he jumped right back up. "I don't give a fuck what it looked like. You have no idea what really happened because you weren't there. I was. I protected her. I saved her." It wasn't like him to drop his guard down, not in fights and not emotionally and yet this felt an awful lot like he was doing both.

Leo: His accusations sent a wave of anger through Leo. But not anger at Josh, anger at himself. He should have been there. "She sent me away!" He yelled back. "I had to find out what happened from Daphne. And when I showed up, she was bleeding out against a fucking tree!"

Josh: "And how is that my fault?" He really didn't want to get involved in their family drama, but even if he hated to admit it, he cared about Sophia. A lot. "I really don't give a fuck what happened between you two. I don't care if she sent you away. I did everything I could to get her out of there alive. And I don't need you giving me shit for it." His voice turned bitter now, the expression on his face almost guilty. How was he supposed to convince some of his innocence when even he blamed himself?

Leo: Leo frowned. He sounded sincere, but he couldn't help but be suspicious anyway. "You could have stayed." he still insisted. "How did she get injured anyway?"

Josh: "She told me to leave." He wanted to look down, chew on his lips and fumble with his hands. But he wouldn't give away just how uncomfortable he was. "We were on a quest," he started, growing even more uncomfortable now that he had to talk about it. "Got circled by monsters in the jungle. I told her to run, but she wouldn't. I-", hesitating, he swallowed hard, "I did what I could."

Leo: He crossed his arms with narrowed eyes, just listening. "Alright. I believe you." Leo admitted finally. "That sounds like her. Just, don't let it happen again, yeah?|

Josh: "Never." Josh agreed with a nod, stretching out his hand. "Truce?"

Leo: Leo shook his hand firmly. "Truce." He hesitated. "...And sorry for decking you." he added on reluctantly.

Josh: Josh snorted. "Oh please. You didn't deck me. It's fine." Leo decked him. But of course he would never admit that. "And I still got a quest to finish. You want to join me?"

Leo: He simply raised his eyebrows. "Whatever you say, pretty boy." He briefly considered the offer - would it really be a good idea to travel with the guy he just punched? - before conceding. Might as well. It was that or awkwardly walk in the same direction but not actually together. "Might as well. Things can't go farther downhill than they already have."

Josh: "Seriously? You, too?" It was still beyond him why everyone suddenly started calling him them. But he wouldn't complain. There were worse things in the world than being called pretty. "Yeah. And if things go South, it's always good to know that your partner can throw a good punch," Josh joked, pointing at the bruise on his face as he started walking.

Leo: Leo just shrugged. "Se tanto mi dà tanto." he joked. "Or, that is to say, if the shoe fits." He fell into step with Josh, appraising the bruise with raised brows. "Yikes. But they're made of shadow so I'm fairly sure they wouldn't even bruise."

Josh: Josh squinted. God, his Italian was bad. He should really ask Sophia if the offer of teaching him was still up. "Well, who cares if they bruise as long their health goes down. And if it doesn't, I'm pretty much screwed," he joked, even though he was seriously concerned now. "I'm a Fighter," he added.

Leo: Leo whistled. "Fighter? I don't envy you. Even getting up close enough to slash something with a cutlass is too close in my books. I'm a pirate." He much preferred his longer range bow, kept him out of the action.

Josh: "Are you crazy? It's the best thing ever! There's nothing like the thrill of being face to face with-" He stopped mid-sentence, squinting. "Did you just hear that?"

Leo: "Hear what? That you're clearly an adrenaline-fueled risk taker?" Leo replied sarcastically, but readied his bow nonetheless.

Josh: "No, the other thing," he hissed, trying to make out where it came from. "Over there." Pointing over to a large dune, he started walking up slowly, knowing that the source of the sound must be somewhere behind it.

Leo: "Oh yeah, head toward the mysterious sound." Leo hissed in annoyance. Glaring at his retreating back for a moment, Leo quickly followed him up the dune.

Josh: "This is what we're here to do, right?", he looked over his shoulder, trying hard not to trip as he kept walking. "Investigate?"

Leo: "And not die." Leo tacked on the end. "That's always preferable." The closer they got to the top, the lower he crouched down. What he was hiding from he didn't know, but it was better safe than sorry.

Josh: "Pretty sure that's not part of the quest," he smirked. Looking over the tip of the dune, he spotted the reason why they were here: an army. His eyes widened. "Woah."

Leo: Leo simply nodded in response, refraining from speaking in fear of drawing attention to them. Stretched before them in the valley was row upon row of tents and encampments. cloaked figures sliding between them. It didn't look like it meant good news for the people of Castow. "Lovely. An army. And nobody thought to, I don't know, check this area every so often?"

Josh: "What? Would you come here voluntarily?", Josh asked with a frown, eyes still glued to the sight below them. After a short moment of silence, he looked over at Leo. "Do you feel like we shouldn't be here, too or is that just me?"

Leo: "Well, knowing they'd eviscerate me within a moment upon seeing me doesn't exactly make me keen to be here, no." He replied with a roll of his eyes. "But I do get what you mean. It's just.... creepy."

Josh: "So how about we leave before they spot us?", he suggested, growing a little more nervous the longer they stood there and watched them.

Leo: "No arguments here. Let’s scram." Carefully Leo backed up down the dune, stretching out when he reached the bottom. "Poor mayor. He almost had an aneurysm when I showed him the cloak, and now this?"

Josh: Josh followed him closely, taking a deep breath. "Well, I can't wait to see his face," he replied with a grin.