[b][color=bc8dbf]Stormy[/color][/b]

A grin split like a bough, branching and growing as she clutched the bounty in her hands. 

[color=bc8dbf]“Thanks man, these look pretty, uhm, pretty tasty.”[/color] Her eyes lingered perhaps too long on Zino: straight as a razorblade, tight as a tourniquet and dry – there was something about the way of speaking and those mannerisms, too serious, that stirred memories in their oubliettes, rattling the bars and riling up thoughts Stormy would rather not be having. Then it was broken, and things were smoothed over again.

She gave a mock salute Michael, almost dropping some of the food, [color=bc8dbf]“Sure thing Mikey, jus’ minding my manners.”[/color]

Turning back to Koda, she handed some food, or tried, but he didn’t seem very interested, in that or anything, so she shrugged – [color=bc8dbf][i]Perhaps later then, my dude[/i][/color] – and began chewing on a pale green leaf, tinged with purple. It was similar to rocket, or perhaps basil, in texture and taste, save for the odd anise and… something else running throughout; pretty trippy. 

Everything still seemed quite dream-like, all haze and hues, just a touch from being real. The monolith, black as jet and sin, only added to the fantasticality of it all. 

The story unfolded, and Stormy shuddered, seeming to shrink further inside her cardigan, her mask pulling her down. She was powerless. A brazen tirade left worry settling in Stormy’s gut like pebbles in a lake. She smiled when Koda at least held some food; he looked as though he needed [i]something[/i].  

If one was paying attention, they might have noticed Stormy visibly deflate, the crushing tension somewhat lessened when the others didn’t seem to share in the Brazen boy’s fervour. 

[color=bc8dbf]“Bee Bee hun, I agree with Mikey here,”[/color] She walked closer to them, speaking softly, kind, not pitying,[color=bc8dbf] “And besides, it’s in the past now, like, attacking him ain’t only dangerous, but it won’t change much, y’know? And it’s real mean, to boot.”[/color] Her mouth opened to say more, to try and clarify her addled spew, but it was then she felt a tug on her shoulder.

[color=bc8dbf]“Hey hun-”[/color] the sentence was cleaved; the diaphanous and congealing swathe of shadows only vaguely resembled Koda. And then it didn’t. Mortality clarified in an instant – this was a dream no longer. 

Pain devoured all. Explosion of agony from an arm. White needles blinded her. Black spots crept in. For as real as it all was, it slipped away: overwhelming.