(Untitled)

[honest_johns]

It's an hour since they last spoke. The sun is sinking into a pink sky, now, latticed by leafless trees and spreading a blood-red trail across the lake

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[key_youth_bert]

"The others of our ka-tel--our class of 'prentices--started catching up to us soon enough. Maybe the three of us succeeding so young encouraged them, or maybe--maybe, in some way, we all knew we'd have less time to accomplish things than our fathers did. In any case, we emerged as perhaps the youngest generation of gunslingers ever--all of us who were going to win our guns did so by the time we were nineteen

[no_prisoner]

Yeah. Fucking nineteen.

The sense of an encroaching menace is one they're all familiar with, but for the Americans it never had this kind of association with home.

Eddie tries to think of riots and unrest spreading through his city, spreading into Brooklyn. It's not hard. All he has to do is think of Lud.

[shadowsusannah]

Lud, yes. Oh lord, yes.

There's a Barry McGuire song running through her head. The pounding of the drums, the pride and disgrace.

The bodies hanging like strange fruit.

And you tell me, over and over and over again, my friend, that you don’t believe
We’re on the eve
of destruction.

[honest_johns]

"Divisions inside the city, too," Alain adds quietly. "Not openly, not then, and treason was punished where our fathers could find it. But Farson's lies spread far. There were plenty who started to listen, over time

[sai_delgado]

Roland's father. Alain's father. The grief that rises threatens to overwhelm her already, and this tale has just begun.

Her own da' had been murdered due to Farson's poison words and treachery, and as for Hambry--

(come, reap)

The blood had begun to flow in Mejis. Susan is pale, listening as Alain and Cuthbert tell of the beginning of the end of their world, and her heart breaks for them.

For all of them.