[Winter – Moonton]

The exhausted eyes hung dim on this humid evening, as a lanky man in a matching droopy attire burst through a door. It revealed his shanty chambers. The cold, non-decorated quarters also captured Eriko Sullivan's demeanor like a giant frame. He spoke with vigor to his underlings as they tore away at their minimal lunch.

They were insatiable and he longed for that sight and not much more. Heavy iron shackles connected by being weaved amongst one another, lie on the floor beneath the wide wooden tables, stained with months-worth of past meals having been spilled.

Eriko shouted while he simultaneously whisked his hand through his curly blonde hair, as if overcome with irritation, instead he exclaimed.

“So .. I heard that one of you has been orchestrating some lil' ploy within each other about a fancy sounding escape. That’s trouble. No good, trouble. I have a simple solution for today. The break in words only supplemented by horrid stares. Tell me who it was that came up with this counter plan and I won't have to start my collection over without any of you.”

Eriko attempted to forewarn the group by cocking back his pistol and taking aim at the closest servant. The underlying shadows from the poor-lit room traced his facial features and told many stories of sleepless, fear-filled nights.

A couple of the captured in the room cowered at the sound of the metal in Eriko's tight grip. Just before he took aim at his potential first victim, a loud interference came from directly next to Eriko’s ear.

“It was Mazd!”

A dissolved, half-robed man had stepped forward and pointed his shriveled finger before he showed the possibility of preemptive remorse. His extended digit fell limp, along with the limb behind it. Confidence was an exhausting effort for this individual.

Eriko wouldn’t relinquish a glimpse of hesitation as he drug his hand across the air in one fluid motion and positioned the cold end of the barrel gently on Mazd's forehead before pulling the trigger. Mazd's body fell flat to the floor while the room fell silent in succession.

The gun-waving man continued.

“Anyone else want to point any- fingers?”

He finished his sentence by looking around for someone brave enough to answer with a forced smile as if instructed to do so on cue. Unexpectedly, Eriko received his false-awaited answer.

Sitting near the only door in the room was a chubby young woman in torn, red garments who pointed at the small man seated next to her. The blamed-man crawled back away from the accuser in scared fashion. Whimpering his innocence while retreating across the ragged floorboard. The chain kept them connected within disdain.

Eriko alternated looks between both of the involved individuals. Darting his pupils from side-to-side as if he were following a gnat with ease. Each of them have sweat dripping from their dreary faces, arms shivered although not from the hot, sticky weather. The man in charge slouched forward and exhaled as though explaining his disbelief with his own onomatopoeia.

Finger still pointed directly ahead, Eriko fired his weapon into the woman's face. Her head jerked back from the close force trauma and the formerly pointing arms now lay lame on the grimy floor.

“She was lying, I could tell… Why do you people do that to me and think-?...”

His victimizing thought had trailed off into muffled whispers against his bloody sleeve.

“Well, not now, anyone else?”

Eriko muttered independently while he tried smearing away the fresh blood on his gun with broad finger strokes. The group remained cautious as fear ran rampant like an unattended rodent. A collective “no” was whispered from the crowd.

“Good.” he said.

While whispering to himself, he let out a grand exhale before he proceeded to storm out of the same door he had entered. As he left, he turned to his right to speak over his shoulder back at his captured servants with a face stained of shadows and dread.

“Remember you’re ruled by The Immortal, and you’re stuck here. So just treat it like home, okay?”

The door slammed shut. It was destined to become another night of anguish and lost hope amid the isolated compound of horrors.

[Winter – Parso]

Poni neighed and told Jennings, “Thank you!” as he began to munch upon various vegetables placed in front of him. Within his sturdy stable, Poni almost froze with glee. Penny and the duo joked about trivial gossip pertaining to the locals. The two had lived for a few months at their new residence handed down from Fujeh after a long trail of meeting people and exchanging viewpoints.

Thanks to Olivia Osca, a maid from the previous arrangement, both Isaac and the elder shadow Agist, Fujeh had tombstones in the back to commemorate their lives. Jennings excused himself from the conversation and made his way toward the backyard. The thick grove that surrounded the complex provided ample seclusion.

Adjusting his belt as he walked, the outlaw saw a garden section growing bright purple flowers laced with a natural golden trim. Jennings walked up to the most lucid one and plucked it from its stem. Penny gazed on from the exit of the residence and even appeared happy at the rare sight of Jennings giving into his sentimental side.

The amount of time invested into her protector’s personal life took its toll on Penny emotionally, but never broke her. She claimed to have reviewed her situation internally, and planned on spilling the contents of her soul to Jennings soon, including what she would do about her family. But soon, it was ever-evasive.

Jennings took the flower in hand and had begun to dig a small hole directly in front of his half-brother's tombstone. While he dug, the outlaw hummed a lullaby his former sibling used to enjoy. After some silent reminiscing, Jennings said a few kind words to himself. Words that he knew would likely never be heard but stated still, in case there was the slimmest of possibilities that it reached Isaac.

“It was so easy to think about the hard times we went through together. Rather than the plenty of good times we was together. Now it seems to me that there was one common factor throughout the thick and the thin … us together. Rest in peace lil' brother, you were my only true family that I ever got to know right. I'll never forget you Isaac.”

The grim pause after completion of Jennings' words gave an opportunity for the sun to break through the clouds. Rays rained down as he stood to his feet and basked in the light, alone with his regrets.

Back in the doorway where Penny stood close by, she saw the young helper of the residence, Olivia approaching in her peripheral vision, wearing a long dark blue dress with a floral pattern of material across the waist. Her hurried steps were an excuse to rush from one task to another, remaining as hard of a worker as ever. She turned to meet her as Olivia spoke in a professional manner but with a faint accent.

“Penny, JJ, there's a young woman at the door for you.

Olivia said in a reserved tone. Gesturing to garner Jennings’ attention, properly investing him enough to venture over into their conversation.

Both left their yard and accompanied Olivia to the front of the house to meet an unfamiliar face walking toward them, deep-blue eyes rose from their downward arc and met with the residents. She had long, outstanding blonde hair and wore a sky blue dress to accentuate her blue eyes. Her voice shook, as if damaged from an external force, unspeakably frightful as contrast to her sharp appearance.

She noticed the group she had approached, along their receptive stares. Seizing the opportunity, she started the conversation by exclaiming.

“So … you really are here JJ Cool? Nice to lay eyes on you again, it brings me- hope.”

The woman ended her statement with a gratified grin.