Michael
OUT OF DARKNESS INTO THE LIGHT
IF YOU WANT ME GONE
IF YOU WANT ME GONE
There could be merit in leaving. Turn around, trudge back the way he had come. Try and locate some other cache far from this place, but even then there was danger in that. Would this man chanse him? How far was his reach? What kind of magic did he have?
Was he waiting for him here?
He didn't know everything, would never pretend to. Had zero issue with the VERY IMPORTANT understanding that he was pretty damn close to the bottom of the food chain.
Did he like it?
Nope.
Did he actually care?
Not REALLY. There wasn't much pride left in the shambles of the nomadic asshole called Michael.
The stranger stated his name. Not something he would offer back in kind. Wasn't one for social niceties or norms. Hadn't been exposed too much to either since he'd begun the upward battle of surviving on his own with no one to trust or call friend.
Torchlight. Vi. Quest. Arclight ocean. Void.
The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he squinted at the mammoth of a man before him. Neurotic at the very of times, always suspicious and never trusting. Had no reason to, no desire to, but the pull of learning more about this purple SHIT all over his world kept him in place. Didn't know how to get rid of it, had some idea of what it wanted - D E A T H? - , was running out of places to hide from it.
So, maybe it was time to stop running.
That squint became more defined, lines deepening across his brow. The words he wanted to say and the words that were more 'kneejerk' were at war, and it was Hadama's question that was the deciding factor:
"Nothing". He shrugged a little as he stared down at the blooms. "But, if you want shitty company I'll tag along as long as you give me some idea about what the hell is going on with the purple crap that's making my life even more miserable than it already is." A tilt of his head, one eye switching from the blooms to the other's face.
YOU PULL THE TRIGGER YOURSELF
