| closed / incomplete |

[eatasam]

CHARACTERS: Famine (eatasam) & Death (nonespared)
DATE/TIME: Sunday afternoon/evening
LOCATION: Death's humble abode
RATING: Mediumish
WARNINGS: Probable language.
SUMMARY: Famine needs a sister shape to get him through the night.

Comments

[eatasam]

The decoration scheme went virtually ignored; it was Death that was more important for the moment. She was the focal point of the room, and Famine beelined right for her without so much as a word or greeting. If possible, he was probably a touch skinnier than the last time she'd seen him. Still not verging on anorexic, but his wrists were a little more delicate, his thighs more lean. He didn't look well-rested, though better than he had when recovering from mono.

The boy came to a stop a couple feet from her, his arms sliding up to cross in a move that almost, almost seemed defensive.

"I always need you. Today's no different," he breathed, tiredly and sincerely.

[eatasam]

Famine fell a little silent, allowing the displacement of his wrists without complaint or resistance. What was she needed for? He'd tell her. Light eyes focused on the wall behind her, distant

[eatasam]

Things weren't much different for Famine himself. He was also selfish, especially when it came to others, and didn't like giving if there wasn't anything to get out of it. A concept of balance. He wasn't someone who did favors very often, not for just anyone. But everything was different when it came to the other Horsemen, who were probably the only three people in the world he would ever trust with his life.

His own arms slid around her in return, holding her tight while he rested a cheek on her hair. Death wasn't tiny, certainly not small enough for him to settle his chin on her head, but rather a decent height. A huggable height. Which was fucking bizarre to think about because Famine wasn't the sort to dish out hugs often, certainly not the sort to want one this badly.

But today, it was needed. His sister was needed in this moment in time, because it helped to bring him back to reality. Gave him an anchor to hold onto. And if anyone could keep him grounded the most, it was Death.

[eatasam]

Uncertainly, Famine breathed a soft sigh against her hair. "It starts with this. The next step is to find those responsible and rip them limb from limb, to feed them their organs while they're still alive," he suggested without pause. Graphic imagery was their specialty. A Horseman who could be disturbed by those sort of scenes needed a crash course in what they were designed to do: deal death. Not face it and come back from it.

"We're being jerked around like puppets. No one is allowed to be that powerful." His arms tightened slightly, shoulders relaxing with every stroke of her palm. "Letting me die was one thing. Bringing me back to life was another."

How could possess that sort of power?

[eatasam]

Only an idiot could disagree. An idiot unwilling to overcome obstacles and just let the world trample them. Famine wasn't that kind of person, none of them were. They were resilient. Hardly impervious to death, as last month had proved to them, but strong. In the mind and in the heart, and it would take a lot to break them down.

The slender boy in her arms twisted his neck to lightly nose her scalp. "I won't let you down, Death. That's the last thing I want to do to any of you." He paused, quieting himself for a couple of seconds. "Do you know what I dream of every night? Nothing. A whole fuckload of nothing but blurry images and streaks of light."

If Death was paying attention, she would be able to feel him tense up.